


A Phenomenon With No Explanation

by N1ghtL1ghts



Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: (but speaks in comfortable situations), Angst, Angst warnings will be in beginning notes for chapters with angst, Bad Flirting, Blood and Violence, Crash Landing, Demiromantic Henry Stickmin, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Henry Stickmin Knows about Alternate Timelines, Henry Stickmin Uses ASL, Implied Neurodivergent Charles, Love Confessions, M/M, ONE person gets murdered, Pining, Post-Henry Stickmin Series: Completing the Mission, Selectively Mute Henry Stickmin, Swearing, Triple Threat Ending | TT (Henry Stickmin), Wilderness Survival, dont worry about those last few tags its hurt/comfort I swear, friendship is important folks, oblivious IDIOTS™
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 49,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26068354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N1ghtL1ghts/pseuds/N1ghtL1ghts
Summary: Henry has been feeling oddly warm around his pilot friend lately, but he's sure he's just coming down with something. Turns out, what he was coming down with was a case of love. His feelings is something he ever really had to deal with before, but he's determined to make this work. They're pretty much the best of friends, so now all he has to do is add in mutual romantic feelings into the bunch! No problem, easiest solution in the world! Right?In which two people panic about their feelings, one recovers better than the other, shenanigans ensue (both embarrassing and distressing. Oh dear, very distressing), and two stickmen just don't talk.
Relationships: Charles Calvin & Ellie Rose, Charles Calvin & Ellie Rose & Henry Stickmin, Charles Calvin & Henry Stickmin, Charles Calvin/Henry Stickmin, Ellie Rose & Henry Stickmin
Comments: 53
Kudos: 307





	1. Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If it's nothing: great! We can get back home quick. If it is something, it'll be easier to get rid of than the Toppats. We should be able to cut it off at the roots before it spreads, y'know?"

Henry leaned against the wall of the Government hangar, nonchalantly picking at dirt from under his nails. He had been standing at the exit for a few minutes now, patiently waiting for the pilots to get done with whatever brief they were being given and leave. Earlier, he had spotted the helicopters swooping over each other with practiced ease. It was probably a usual routine for the pilots, seeing as though they did it so easily.

One helicopter seemed to be faster, took better turns, and seemed more experienced than all the others. He told himself that he totally didn't have a bias to think it was a Certain Someone.

"Henry!"

He blinked at the familiar sound, and looked up to see none other than Charles Calvin, the very pilot he was standing there for. The man was grinning, beaming brighter than anything he's ever seen. The sun and stars had nothing on the pilot's smile. Charles laughed then, a noise that sent the corners of Henry's lips curling upwards and warmth to surge into him. Then Charles broke into a sprint towards him, excited to see him after a little while of being apart. Sure, they had kept in touch via headpieces and phone calls, but there was something else about being physically there. 

Every time he and Charles hang out in person, Henry is sure he feels something new. Whether it be a new, strange mixture of emotions he didn't think was possible, or an unusual tingling in his fingers if Charles reached out to pat his hand. The new feelings certainly weren't unpleasant, but they were… peculiar. He thinks they _should_ feel weird to him, but they just felt… right. Like they should be there. 

Like the feeling currently rising in his chest. An alien emotion curled in his chest, soft and sweet. The feeling hummed a melody, swirling in his mind like a soft lullaby. His eyes glaze over as he is thrown into his own thoughts. Thoughts of safe places and safe people. One of the safest places he’d known being his home. His house was quaint, and loyal (well, as loyal as a _house_ could be), but it held a lot more than just a bed for him to sleep in. It has stood for a long time, and held some of his countless steals from his adventures, like that one police car he took from the prison. When he put something in there, he was sure it would be exactly where it was left when he came back. His house was _safe_ and it never judged whatever he brought back. It simply welcomed him inside, and carefully kept his most treasured items secure. 

Charles would like his house, he thinks. Should he bring Charles there sometime? That idea had feelings in his chest crescendo to a beautiful chorus. The thought thrilled him. He could bring Charles over, and they'd have a _great_ time. They could play games, or even just talk if they didn't have the energy. Henry could show off all his spoils from his missions and escapades. Would Charles be impressed? He might not one hundred percent approve with how he got some of the things, but surely he'd recognize his talent? Charles was always good and nice with him, this wouldn't change. Maybe after that they'd go to bed for the night. In the morning maybe Henry could make them a proper breakfast? It's been a long while since he's cooked, but he's sure he'd be able to for Charles. Speaking of that, did his fridge even have enough groceries to cook? That's alright, he'd just have to head out. He knew Charles would be safe when he got back after all, he was in the most secure place Henry knew. Charles deserved no less.

Henry blinked, the fuzzy thoughts fading. What was he doing again? 

Charles crashed into him with a joyful, "You're here!" Henry had to fight to stay on his feet and not be bowled over. Arms wrapped around his waist and squeezed with near bruising pressure. Without much thought, Henry returned the act tenfold. 

Oh right, reunion with Charles. Only he could be distracted from Charles, by thoughts of Charles. 

They separated with great hesitance, though Charles kept a tight grip on his shoulders. The pilot's smile was so wide it almost seemed painful. "I didn't expect you to be here," Charles chattered along, "you should have told me you were coming, I would have gotten out of practice to see you earlier!"

Henry grinned, Charles would be the one to skip important routines if it meant he got just a few more minutes with the former thief. He couldn't lie and say he was any better though.

Henry quickly pointed to himself, pinched both of his index fingers and thumbs together, and sharply brought the hands upwards while separating his touching fingers to form a 'L' shape. He put on a surprised facial expression while doing so. He finished his sentence with a point towards the pilot. "I wanted to surprise you."

Charles was always good at getting what he meant while signing. Said man giggled, and nodded happily. "Well, you sure did surprise me! I'm so excited to see you! But ah…" Charles trailed off slowly "I still have a few things scheduled for today first. If that's okay?"

Henry wanted the most time possible with his friend, but there was no changing schedules around here. He smiled and shrugged, he didn't have to even sign the "All good."

Charles let out a soft huff of relief, and that ear-to-ear grin returned. "Good! That's a relief. I'll probably be done at around four, if that's alright? Meet up at my room at the inn?" Henry nodded twice, and Charles fist pumped. "Nice! That's all settled now! But I don't really," the pilot paused, giving Henry a soft, helpless look, "want to leave you so soon after seeing you."

His stomach fluttered happily at that. He gave Charles what he hoped was an encouraging smile instead of a dorky one, patted him on the shoulder, and brought him into another hug. The pilot latched on without further encouragement and buried his face into Henry's shoulder, letting out a soft, happy sigh afterwards. Henry allowed his heart to flip with absolute glee as heat raced from the top of his head to the bottom of his toes. A thought popped into his head, and he smirked. He gave Charles a poke on the shoulder and took a small step back. Charles gave a soft unhappy hum at having to pull back so soon, but complied anyway.

Henry had to hold back a snicker when he finger spelled out “Softie.”

Charles whined, “I missed you! Our hangouts are fun! It’s been a little bit since we’ve seen each other outside of missions! You-“ 

Henry cut him off with a wave of a hand. Then he brought both his index fingers to point at the sky. He flicked them to point off in the distance. “Go.” before Charles could look hurt, he added “The faster you get done, the faster you see me later.”

Charles seemed to jolt at this, lighting up like the moon on a clear night. “You’re right!” And without saying anything else, the man suddenly turned on his heel and sprinted in the direction Henry guessed was the next task for him to do. Along the way he shouted out a rushed, “OKAY BYE HENRY SEE YOU LATER!” And at the end of the yard the pilot abruptly stopped, whirled around, cupped his mouth and _screamed,_ “AND STAY SAFE!”

Henry snorted at the exclamation, signing another “Go!” with more emphasis. What exactly did Charles think he would be able to do to put himself in trouble? He was literally walking just a little bit to an Inn. Well, he was in a military base, maybe there was something valuable here? Maybe he could just…

No, people would have a fit if they found out Henry went and got himself in trouble just because Charles said not to.

The mischievous part of him hummed, _people would have a fit..._

_People would most likely include Charles._ That stopped the train of thought, causing Henry to grumble. He could handle other people being infuriated with him, but if he got _Charles_ mad Henry felt like he did something unforgivable. Like kicking a puppy or something. Charles had no idea what kinda power he had, Henry thought with a pout.

He pulled himself out of his own head, letting out a breath of air. Turning in the direction of the Inn, he quickly set off. Four pm was still a little ways away, an hour and a half, so he could take his time getting there. Henry could feel the bounce in his step while walking away. 

A hand on his shoulder made him pause. A man had stopped him, some kind of soldier who's name he didn't remember. Said soldier raised his eyebrows at him, eyes making a show of flickering to where Charles had left, and back to him. Henry simply glared at the man. He didn't like when people stopped him on the street for no reason. The man, in turn, didn't seem to care that he was annoying Henry. In fact, he seemed delighted in Henry's growing irritation. Then the man smiled and _stared_ at him, his gaze spoke of knowing something that he didn't. Henry felt a flash of embarrassment, despite not even knowing what he was embarrassed by. He stepped around the man sharply then, confident that he had nothing to say that was worth listening to. 

He fought down the flush that rose to his face when he heard the man laugh behind him, and mumble a, "Knew it!"

If that fucker finds all of his valuables missing tonight, nobody would have to know, right?

* * *

Charles entered his room at the Inn like he always did: throwing the door open and shouting as loud as he could. 

The clack of the door meeting the wall made Henry nearly jump 6 feet into the air, and had it not been for the pilot's loud call of "HENRY! I'M HOOOME~" he probably would have thought he was an intruder and would’ve tried to beat the living shit out of him.

After getting over the minor heart attack he was given, Henry collapsed backwards onto the couch with an exaggerated, “Oof”. Letting out an answering groan, he was delighted to hear Charles cackling from the other room. There was the ruffling of fabric, and the sound of something metallic being thrown from the other room. He’s seen Charles come back to his room at the Inn enough to know that the metallic object was most likely his keys. He also knew he’d probably had thrown them into an obscure corner and it would take hours for Charles to find them the next day. Henry’s lips curled in amusement at the thought. Charles had once done the very same thing, and had spent a full goddamn four hours to find his keys. He had been late to a very important mission, and as soon as he showed up Ellie nearly surgically attached his keys _to_ him to make sure he didn’t throw them somewhere stupid again. 

It’s happened six times since then. Ellie got him a key ring and very angrily set it up directly in front of the door so Charles could put them up when he got home. He still threw his keys in the corner. Ellie hates it with her whole being.

Henry blinks, and suddenly Charles is in the doorway to the living room. He really needs to get his hazy thoughts in check.

“Did I scare you?” Charles asks, voice lifting in a playful air. He had the top part of his flight suit unzipped and off his shoulders. The sleeves were tied around his waist, showing off the shirt he wore underneath the suit. It was a black long sleeved shirt, with the image of a helicopter on it. There was smoke coming from it, and the smoke gathered around the top of the shirt, including the shoulders. In the smoke, “EVERYTHING IS FINE.” was written in bold letters. It had been a gag gift given to Charles from one of his coworkers years ago, and he loved it wholeheartedly.

Henry signed a lazy, “Terrified.”

“You don’t look very terrified.”

“Heard your voice,” and while the loud entrance did surprise him, “you're not scary.”

“Aw,” Charles pouted at him, “I wanted to spook you.”

“Asshole,” Henry returned with his voice, just to get Charles to let out that bark of a laugh he did when pleasantly surprised. 

“Fine then,” the pilot hummed, reaching into his back pocket. Charles grinned, and Henry could feel his eyes narrow. He pulled out a movie case, the letters on the front smudged to illegibility, “I guess I’ll just take this copy of Last Stick Standing and-“ Henry let out an audible gasp and shot off the couch. Charles had jerked backwards in an attempt to keep the case out of Henry’s hands, but after all the things Henry’s been through his reflexes were near unbeatable. 

He brought the case of his _favorite movie in the whole wide world_ to his chest and gave a killer glare to Charles. Said man was snickering, and at the glare he held his hands up in defeat. Henry was wildly protective of the things he liked, and Charles was well aware of that. He had been a witness to a poor fool who made the mistake of trying to snatch the leftovers from Henry’s hands after leaving one of his favorite restaurants. The asshole didn’t even need the food, he was just trying to fuck with him. Before Charles could even say anything, Henry had shot out and threw a bruising punch. One of his knuckles had split open from the pure force he put behind it. What was his was _his_ and he wasn’t scared to defend it.

Well, maybe he would have given mercy to Charles, but Charles didn’t need to know that. 

Charles sat down on one end of the couch, adjusting into a comfortable position. “Is Ellie not coming this time?” 

Henry popped the case open, taking the disc and placing it into the DVD player. With a hum, he looked over his shoulder and shook his head in a negative. The TV turned on with a hiss and immediately went to play terrible commercials. Son of a bitch, he thought with an infuriated huff. Well, at least he had more time to talk to Charles.

Charles made a soft inquisitive sound to get Henry to face him once more. “Is she okay,” his question was filled with worry, and Henry briefly felt a flash of fondness for the pilot. He always was always worried over them.

“She's always okay. She's strong,” he signed. When Charles still seemed a bit concerned, he continued, “Ellie is busy with work.”

“Oh yeah, she was trying to get back into a decent job, huh,” Henry made an unconvinced noise, and Charles startled, “No? Not her job then? What is she doing?”

Henry grinned, “Crimes.”

“Oh.” There was a small silence, before Charles spoke up again, “Will she get caught?”

As if Ellie _could_ get caught. “No. She never leaves witnesses.”

“No,” the pilot agreed, “no witnesses at all. Doesn’t even leave blood.” Henry snickered, and flopped back onto the couch with a dramatic flair. Charles actually bounced a little. “Either way,” he continued, “it’s a shame she’s not here, she’s gonna miss you being quiet for a movie for once!” 

Henry reached out to give the pilot a smack on the shoulder. Then, his lips curled, and he gave Charles a look that was filled with only mischief. “I will?”

Charles gave him a returning tap, “I know this is your favorite movie ever, don’t even try to act like you’ll be anything but dead silent.” He pulled back with a little smile, and a warm flutter rushed in Henry’s belly. He was strangely flattered that Charles had remembered his favorite movie. He could remember telling him exactly once, and once only. He brushed off the happy hum in his head.

“I'm always silent,” Henry returned with as much sass he could put into his hands, satisfied when the pilot's face contorted into an unamused look. 

“You know what I- you- hey wait, that’s a total lie!” The pilot threw his hands up, flailed them for a second, and then settled on pointing a finger right at the former thief’s chest. “We put on Indiana Jones _once-_ “

Henry snarled at the mention of the movie, “It sucked!” That incident was the most he had ever talked in the history of _ever._

“-and you screamed for hours about how lame it was and how you could do it all in your sleep! And don’t even get me started on when you started on talking about how unrealistic some of the traps were-“

“They were!” Henry's signs were sharp, “I'm not wrong!"

“Fine, you were right, some of the traps were stupid, but we had to _permanently ban the movie_ from movie nights to make sure it never happened again! I thought you’d never stop talking.”

“I did,” Henry shot back smugly, hands trembling at his desperate effort to keep laughter from bubbling out of his throat. “I'm not talking right now.”

Charles shot him a look. “Every single movie we’ve watched so far that held even the smallest bit of action had you screaming and signing insults at the TV.”

“They're bad movies.”

“They weren’t all bad,” Charles cried in response. “there was that one with the helicopters! I liked that one!”

Henry rolled his eyes dramatically. He knew exactly why Charles liked that one. The main character was a helicopter pilot who was a well known hero. The movie consisted of dramatic scenes of helicopters flying and fighting in the air. It was completely ridiculous, but as soon as Henry had found it at the movie store he knew. When he had given it to Charles, his eyes had lit up brighter than street lights. Charles had literally _screamed_ in his excitement but he took the movie case gingerly. The hug that Charles had pulled him into afterwards nearly broke his ribs, but the rapid thundering of his heart and the loss of breath made it worth it. 

“What was it called again?” Charles muttered, rubbing a hand against his face, “it started with an A… I think? Uh…”

Henry snapped his fingers, catching the pilot's attention quickly, “Aerial Lines.”

“Aerial Lines! That’s it!” The pilot shot finger guns his way, “That one wasn’t too bad! It was cool!”

“You have a bias.”

“Of course I do! Why wouldn’t I? Helicopter pilots are the _coolest_.” Charles then looked to him, a smile wide on his face. He didn’t say a word, but Henry knew exactly what he wanted him to say. Instead he stayed silent, nonchalantly looking away. The pilot's grin widened, “ _Right,_ Henry?” He could hear Charles straining to keep the laughter from spilling out. Henry himself was having a hard time keeping himself from grinning stupidly. He half rested his face in his hand to hide that fact from the pilot's prying eyes. "Henry?"

He couldn’t help snickering then. He held up his other hand in a so-so motion. “Ehhh…”

“Fair,” the pilot admitted forlornly, “not every pilot can be cool, I guess.” Charles looked off into the distance sadly, doing a spot-on impression of a puppy that was just scolded. For a second, Henry’s stomach dropped, and he felt horribly guilty. Then he felt exasperated at his emotions for falling for the painfully obvious bait.

That _bastard._

“You’re cool,” Henry admitted, part of him surprised at how soft it came out. He felt horribly vulnerable all of a sudden, shifting to tug on the side of his hood.

Charles blinked in surprise at the admission. then his face quickly morphed into regret. The pilot flailed his hands in a panic, “Sorry, I was joking! I wasn’t actually sad or mad or anything! Oh jeez, I-“

Henry waved him off, humming in mild amusement. His chest tightened, like what he was about to say was a confession of guilt. He opened his mouth to talk, faltered when nothing came out, and decided to sign instead. He pointed to himself, and then pressed the pads of his fingers of one hand to his temple. “I know.”

That sent the pilot to a tumbling stop. “You- you what? Then why did you…”

“You're cool,” he signed matter of factly. It was just a simple fact. The grass is green, the sky is blue, and Charles was cool.

“Oh…” Charles trailed off suddenly, face flushing from… embarrassment? Henry wasn’t sure. The man fumbled, fidgeting with the sleeves tied around his waist. “Well I- um, I think you’re cool too! Very cool!” 

Henry smiles softly at the pilot's flustered state. He couldn’t handle compliments without flushing. That didn’t mean Henry would stop saying them, Charles looked nice with a red face. At least, that’s what he’s getting from the sudden drum of a heartbeat in his chest. He put his fingertips just under his lower lip, and moved his hand outwards towards Charles smoothly. “Thank you.”

“Yeah of course, we’re both very cool! The coolest, the two of us! We just-“

They were very rudely interrupted by a sudden loud BOOM from the TV. The both of them jumped back, scrambling for purchase in their surprise. Charles had screamed, further adding to Henry’s disorientation. His hand grabbed the plush pillows as his head snapped in the direction of the TV. The commercials were over, and the movie was ready to play. The noise was simply from the option select screen. His hands trembled as he brought one to clutch at his chest.

“Jesus Christ,” Henry ground out, and the two sat in stunned stillness.

Then Charles howled out a laugh, and Henry couldn’t help but join in. They threw their heads back, now basking in the pure hilarity of the scare. The two trailed off into near hysterical giggles, desperately trying to get some air back into their poor lungs. But then Henry let out a low wheeze, and fell off the couch messily. He took an unfortunate blanket down with him, which landed on top of him. Letting out a yelp, he struggled when he wasn’t completely winded from laughing. His flailing in the blanket came to no avail, he was completely tangled. This just sent up another round of loud laughter. He could hear Charles absolutely losing his mind on the couch. The poor man sounded like he was choking, he was laughing so hard. 

Henry struggled once more, and was rewarded with being able to stick his head out of the blanket. He must’ve looked funny doing so, because Charles fell backwards once again, covering his face with a hand. A muffled shriek of laughter came from him, and Henry found himself in awe. It was like seeing a beam of sunlight cut through clouds. As Charles desperately tried to calm himself down, Henry could do little more than stare with a stupid smile on his face. _He wouldn’t mind making Charles laugh like that for years to come,_ he thinks to himself. _Make it so you can,_ a voice inside his head offers. Henry blinks, and carefully pulls himself out of his blanket prison.

His thoughts are hazy as he sits himself back on the couch. Charles is still taking in shaky breaths, every once in a while letting out a giggle. He doesn’t really remember throwing the blanket at the pilot, but seeing as though one moment it’s in his hands and the other on the pilot's head, that must’ve been what happened. He does know that Charles had mumbled in protest, and in an act of defiance, refused to share the blanket for the movie.

His brain’s shifting in and out of focus. Henry feels like he just uncovered something important, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it is. Henry picks up the remote, and hits play on the movie. It begins, and Henry finds it the most uninteresting thing in the room. Through every action scene, and every important line, all he hears is the pilot's musical laughter.

He feels feverish. Maybe… maybe he’s coming down with something…

* * *

When Henry wakes up the next day, he’s in a bed he doesn’t remember climbing into.

For a second, his heart stops cold in his chest. Then the overwhelming thought of _danger_ has him shooting out from under the covers. He stumbles, and slams face first into a wall. He gasps and takes a step back, cradling his injured face and looking around the room he’s inside of in a panic. 

And then he stops, because he recognizes that picture on the wall. It’s a silly shot, a terrible angle of him, Ellie, and Charles. One mission they had brought Charles down to the battlefield due to a lack of backup. Charles had brought out his phone with an exclamation of “Hey! This is my first mission on the ground with you! We should get a picture to remember!” Charles then had turned around and lifted the phone to face them with a smile. He had completely missed the missile coming for them. Luckily, it landed a good feet away, but the force of the blast had sent both Ellie and Henry flying towards Charles. In the photo, it showed off the pilot's surprised face, mouth open from his yelp of surprise as Henry had crashed into his back. Henry’s face was also contorted into a look of surprise, but also panic had painted his features. He was only half in frame, with his hands swinging wildly. Ellie was still in the air, and you could only see her mouth, as her hair had covered the top half of her face. She was screaming.

The pure idiocy of the photo stops him in his tracks, and forces his brain to reboot. Henry sits there for a few seconds, hands at his sides, as he takes the rest of the room in. Then, slowly, he recognizes where he is. He takes a wide step, turning in place, and takes in the pilot's room. Some of the pilot's things are thrown around the room. Old uniforms, many different manuals on aircrafts, and photos decorate the space. It’s strange, but the chaos seems oddly contained. If anyone could manage that look, it would be Charles. He’s in a familiar place - _a safe place_ \- he realizes, and feels his body relax on its own. The previous panic leaves him, making him feel tired and scruffy.

Henry has no idea why he’s in here, or how he had even ended up in the pilot's bed of all things. Then he winces, and pokes at his face. It didn’t exactly feel pleasant to run into a wall face-first, but at least he wasn’t bleeding. Hopefully it won’t bruise, the others will have a fit. Henry rubs the injured spot, making his way to the door. He opens it with a now sleepy hand and steps out into the hallway. The sun comes in through the blinds, making his face curl up as it gets in his eyes. He never really was a morning person.

How early was it, anyways? 

Henry manages to stumble into the living room, and is surprised to find a figure on the couch. He squints, the scornful light from the sun not making his vision any better. _One day he’ll fight the sun,_ his tired mind supplies. Henry shakes the thought off. _One day..._ He takes a few careful steps forward, and peeks over the top of the sofa. The sight of Charles, asleep, and completely smothered in blankets makes his chest swell. A flash of red at the corner of his vision makes his head turn, and he finds the pilot's priceless headset on the ground just besides the couch. He blinks at it in confusion, and then his brows furrow because _that’s not where it’s supposed to be._ He bends over and takes the headset into his hands, making sure to handle it with care. 

Henry remembers the time Charles shared the very important fact of just how much the headset meant to him. Charles had explained where there were times where the world was just so overbearingly loud that suppressing the noise was the only thing that let him go out in public. Plus, Charles had added, the pressure of the headphones on the side of his head, or even the feeling of them hanging around his neck, comforted him. If he ever got too stressed, just feeling the headset being there made him calm. Henry has also seen Charles rubbing at the sides of it sometimes, which he guessed was comforting to the pilot. Just being separated from the headset stressed Charles to no end. Henry would rather break a bone than accidentally mishandle the pilot's most important item.

He holds the headset in his hand, and turns to look at the sleeping pilot. He isn’t quite sure where Charles puts them when sleeping, but he guesses it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

Henry pads over, gently poking Charles in the shoulder. He waits for a few seconds before doing the same thing again. And then again. The man groans at the third poke, letting out a half grumble, half whine. He turns his head in the direction of the former thief, and one eye opens to look at him. Charles was barely conscious, staring at Henry groggily. Softly, he murmurs, “What?”

“Here,” Henry returns, offering the headset.

“Oh.” Charles worms one hand out of the blanket to rub at his neck and seems to realize the headset isn’t there. He glares at the red headphones in Henry’s hand as if they’ll confess their crime. Charles reaches out and takes the headphones, settling them around his neck. Then, the most experienced pilot in the entirety of the base flops back down onto the couch face first. He lets out a soft, “oof.” Charles nuzzles into the pillows, and Henry is sure he’s gone to the world. 

Henry’s pleasantly surprised when a hand catches his own. He hums, and looks down to find Charles gripping his hand tightly. The pilot's head moves slowly to allow one eye to peer at him. The pilot's eyes are heavily lidded, and he’s obviously just seconds from falling asleep again. Charles squeezes his hand, and Henry feels his fingers tingle. “Thank youuu,” the sleepy pilot slurs out. And then his hand falls from Henry’s.

Henry is then caught between two very different emotions: annoyance at the early morning, and absolute affection for the man who just passed out once again. He groans, rubbing at his eyes. Henry decides he wants to acknowledge neither of those feelings right now. Especially since the latter made him feel feverish once again. He decides that instead he wants to acknowledge the growing craving for coffee growing in his mind. Henry quickly flees to the kitchen.

He’s been in the pilot's kitchen a few times, at least enough to know where the mugs are. He pulls a random one down, setting it aside on the corner. He shifts to sift through another cabinet to pull down some sugar. Finally, he opens the fridge to pull out a combination of three different types of creamer. Through the haze of sleep, he feels another flattered flutter rise in his stomach as he realizes Charles got his stupidly specific creamers that he uses for his coffee. He smiles happily, taking all three bottles and settling them down on the counter next to the sugar. Henry turns to the coffee pot, ready to pour himself a cup.

And blanks when he realizes he didn’t brew any coffee. 

He stares at the pot in betrayal for a few seconds, before he brings both hands to cover his face. “Idiot,” he mutters to himself, feeling utterly stupid. He doesn’t even _know_ where Charles kept all his coffee making shit. It could be anywhere, and honestly he did not feel like digging to the darkest depths of the pilot's kitchen just for some bitter bean juice. 

But he was a determined one, and he had already gotten out everything to make the coffee taste nice. He drags his hands down his face, not even wincing when his still hurt face throbs in protest. He lets out a loud groan then, glaring at every single cabinet in the kitchen. Henry was either gonna get some coffee or die trying.

About an hour and a half later, Henry was not dead, and held his supplies in his hands proudly. Surprisingly, the kitchen was still decently in order. Guilt kept him from flinging everything around lest he put something where it didn’t belong. It wasn’t his house after all. Five minutes later, he had a pot full of coffee and a wild grin on his face.

He poured some of it in his own mug, tossing in some sugar. He stirred for a few seconds to let it dissolve. Then, he added in little bits of all three creamers. He knew it was done when it looked more like milk than coffee. He held the cup up in victory, making a triumphant sound. Henry brought the cup to his lips, and felt pure satisfaction that he finally had his beloved drink.

“Oh cool, you made coffee,” slurs a voice from the kitchen doorway, and Henry nearly chucks his cup. He didn’t, fortunately, because then he would’ve wasted all his hard work. It was also good, because the voice came from a newly woken up Charles.

Instead of the bottom of his flight suit, he has some kind of green sweatpants on now. The headset was still safely hanging from his neck from earlier. Charles sounded like his normal self, but Henry could still very clearly hear that “I just woke up and have no idea where I am or what time it is” vibe.

Henry lets out an affirmative hum, and gestures towards the still steaming coffee pot. Charles quickly crosses the kitchen when the pot is in his sight. Henry moved to the side to let him grab his own mug, but is surprised when he skips the cabinet entirely. He manages to mutter a lame, “Uh,” before the pilot takes the entire pot into his hands

_No,_ Henry thinks. _He’s_ not _doing what Henry thinks he’s doing... Is he?_

Henry can only watch in horror as Charles Calvin, the ambassador of friendliness, chugs not just a quarter, not half, but the whole fucking pot of plain steaming coffee. Henry chokes on his own cup, and has to thump his chest to make sure he didn’t die from choking on his drink. Well, more like slightly bitter cream in comparison.

Charles puts the pot back and smiles innocently, “Good morning Henry! You can find whatever in the fridge if you’re hungry!”

“WHAT THE FUCK,” Henry shouts in return. 

Charles startles like this isn’t the correct response to watching someone down the equivalent of twelve cups of near boiling bitter ass coffee. “What,” he says in the utter confusion that only Charles could get from this situation.

Henry gestures wildly between the empty coffee pot, Charles, and the cabinet where the cups are stored. He wouldn’t be able to explain his pure bafflement in just words, so he didn’t try to.

Charles squints at him, and then seems to realize what he’s getting at. “Oh. I just wanted some. It’s faster to drink from the pot."

That brought him more questions than answers! Does he do this every morning? Does he make himself a whole pot, or maybe just a little bit of it? Did he always drink plain black coffee, or was this a one time thing? Why did he even have mugs in his cabinets if he never used them?

Before Henry could open his mouth or move his hands to let Charles know just how confused he was, a knock sounded on the front door. 

“One second,” the pilot chirped, and left the kitchen completely. This left Henry still staring at the pot, trying to process what just happened. After a few seconds of just staring into the air, he picked up his coffee again. He stirred it once, twice, and then took another sip. He’s accepted he would never truly understand what happened here today, but that doesn’t mean he has to be over it. 

“ELLIE!” comes the delighted cry from the living room, and the sound of someone being knocked over and crashing down to the ground. There was a loud yelp, and then laughter. Henry smiles into his cup, placing it down gently. He turns to the coffee pot, and quickly sets it to brew a little more. He picked his cup up again, and then quickly speed walked to the living room. 

When he got there, both Charles and Ellie were on the floor. Ellie was yelping out protests, only half heartedly trying to push Charles away. She was grinning though, and she kept on letting out small giggles. Ellie looks up when Henry walks in, and her eyebrows shoot up. “Henry, you’re here?”

He makes an affirmative noise, taking a sip of his drink.

Charles quickly lets Ellie out of the hug, stepping back to enthusiastically pull her to her feet. “Yeah!” Charles then turns to put a hand around Henry’s shoulders, tugging him into a one-sided hug. The former thief yelps and carefully holds his mug up to stop it from splashing everywhere. He glares at the pilot, who intently ignores the look. “We watched a movie and he was out cold! Oh Ellie you missed it, he was happy with the movie the entire time!”

Ellie gives the both of them a doubtful look. “Are we talking about the same Henry?”

“So mean to me,” Henry mutters, putting a hand to his chest in fake offense. In the mornings it was always easier to talk, maybe because there was no stress from the day to weigh heavy on his throat like a blanket. Or maybe, it was just because he was with his two best friends.

Charles just laughs and jostles him, to Henry’s displeasure when he almost drops his mug again. “Yeah, dead silent! Not surprising, since it was his favorite movie.”

“And which movie would that be?”

“Last Stick Standing,” Charles answers simply.

“An action movie? Whenever we watch action movies you bitch at the screen all the time.”

Henry huffs, “Last Stick Standing is good.”

“Must’ve been, if you didn’t cuss out the entire directing crew,” Ellie pokes him in the side as she says this, voice teasing. He shoves her back, tucking behind Charles when Ellie stepped forward to try to punch him playfully. The coffee sloshes in his hands dangerously. 

“Hey, wait a minute,” cried Henry’s unfortunate meat shield. “I didn’t ask to be dragged into this!”

Due to Ellie currently trying to beat him up, Henry doesn’t have the time to give the pilot a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. He dodges sharply when Ellie lunges around Charles, just barely missing her claw of a hand. His face hurt from the stupid grin he was wearing. Their game just became a little dance around Charles at this point, who was also smiling like a fool. Eventually, Charles quickly did a little side hop out of the circle, leaving Henry vulnerable to Ellie’s merciless ways. Henry shrieked in betrayal at the pilot, who just cackled in return. Ellie leapt forward before he could even blink and caught one side of his hood. He was caught, he had no way out. He could only stare in fake horror as Ellie’s fist slowly came closer.

And simply bumped his shoulder.

He clutched the spot, cringing as if his shoulder really was injured. ”Why,” he wheezed, not even trying to stop the corner of his mouth from twitching. The others laughed at his drama, Ellie bumping his shoulder with hers on her way to the kitchen.

She sniffs the air, and turns to look at the two following her, “So you two made coffee?”

“Well…” Charles starts but stops as Henry waves a hand. He gestures to the pot, which was filled about a quarter of the way. 

Ellie stares at it curiously before questioning, “Don’t you usually make a whole pot? Or have you already drank that much?”

Henry snapped his head over to stare at Charles intently. The pilot had the decency to look at least a little sheepish. “I drank some,” he admits.

“The whole thing” Henry corrects, his mind playing the scene over and over. Ellie coming in had made him forget about it, but now he was intent to not let the topic slide.

“I didn’t know Ellie was coming!”  
  


“Completely plain.” He adds, looking over to catch one of Ellie’s eyebrows raising at Charles. The pilot fumbles, trying to come up with an excuse for himself. Henry doesn’t let him. “Chugged it. Didn’t even breath.”

_That_ got the other brow to raise. 

“Don’t make fun of me! This is _my_ place, I could kick you both out!” Charles cries. Both Ellie and Henry share a knowing look. Charles was too nice to kick anyone out, and everyone in the room knew it. Charles himself had trouble keeping a straight face at the statement, working a lip between his teeth to bite at it. Henry definitely doesn't stare at it.

“Sure,” the redhead agrees, grabbing a random mug and starting to fill it. “Where do you keep the creamer?” 

Then Henry remembers something. He quickly brings his mug to his lips. 

“Fridge,” Charles offered, “in the door.”

Henry already knew that, but he was too busy trying to down his now luke-warm drink as fast as possible to respond. He slammed his empty cup onto the counter, accidentally making Charles jump from the noise. He signed a rushed ”Sorry,” before jumping up and racing across the kitchen. He grabbed poor Ellie by the shoulders, shaking her a few times before realizing he hadn’t said what he wanted. Before Ellie could ask what exactly the fuck he was doing, he quickly hisses, “Your mission, what’d you get?”

“Wouldn’t you want to know?” Ellie returns, smirking as she carries her bottle of creamer back to her cup. He follows, peering over her shoulder to intentionally annoy her. 

Charles perks up at the entrance of the kitchen, “Well, now I’m curious too.”

“Sorry Charles, but I’m not making the mistake of disclosing what I got on a mission again,” she pours just a splash in, putting the bottle back down, “Remember that time I got that weird looking watch from a mission? I showed the two of you.” Charles nods, “Two days later, it’s gone.”

Both Charles and Ellie turn to give him a look then. Henry pouts childishly, opening his mouth to defend himself. Ellie points an accusatory finger at him before he can get anything out, “Don’t even start, Stickmin. You stole the Tunisian Diamond, you can steal a little wrist watch.” Henry closes his mouth with a click of teeth, making Ellie narrow her eyes in victory. Instead of questioning him further, she stirs her coffee a little and takes a sip. 

“Anyways,” she turns, setting a hand on the counter behind her to lean on. “Guess who gets to go on a mission today!”

“None of us?” Charles asks hesitantly with a weak smile, clearly wanting this to be the right answer.

“Wrong!” Ellie cries, throwing both her hands up, “All of us!”

Henry and Charles let out twin groans of despair, though Henry went the extra mile to slam his face onto the counter top. He’s painfully reminded that he ran into a wall this morning, and slamming your face onto a counter top does not help that in the slightest. He hides his grimace… with the counter top.

“No!” Charles is heartbroken from what he can hear, probably waving his hands around like a madman. That’s what he always did whenever upset about something. “No! I planned out a whole day where we could all just hang out and relax!” He hears Charles grumble lowly, and he raises his head just to see the pilot sulking. Henry feels a flash of displeasure; Charles was genuinely upset over his plans changing. Maybe Henry could go over to the General and reschedule? 

“It should be relatively quick, but I don't even really know what we're doing,” The redhead noted, “They didn't tell me what's up, just said we're going on a quick mission. From what I've heard though, in a worse case scenario it takes a few hours. We should have enough time afterwards to do stuff.”

"I'll probably be told what in the world we're doing as we're heading out then," Charles mutters, rubbing at his headset for comfort. 

"Why do they even wait so long to tell us details?"

"Something about stopping word from spreading and letting enemy spies know, I don't know I never listened to the briefing."

The pilot then sighs and raises his hands high over his head in a stretch. It’s obviously to stretch his muscles before going out on a mission, or maybe even to make him wake up easier. With the lifting of his arms, the bottom of the shirt was dragged upwards. But, strangely, Henry found himself tracing the motion with his eyes. The bottom lifted just above where the pilot's sweatpants stopped-

And then fell back down. Whatever trance he had been held in quickly dissipated, leaving Henry feeling an odd warmth in his chest. His heart was beating erratically, and _he really hopes he isn't having a heart attack or something._

"We might as well get ready then," Charles groans, "if we're lucky, it'll be an exciting mission!" A small, positive smile spreads across the pilot's face, sending Henry's heart further into a flurry. "Gotta get dressed though," at that, Charles begins to step out of the kitchen, sending a quick, "be right back!" over his shoulder.

This left both Henry and Ellie in the kitchen. There's an awkward feeling in the air, he notes. To avoid looking at her, he walks over to his abandoned cup on the table, placing it in the sink neatly. 

"So," Ellie begins, stirring her coffee, "we gonna talk about that, or…"

Strangely, a hum of anxiety grips him. He's not quite sure what about Ellie's words make him nervous, but they do. His throat constricts. His speech has left him once again, forcing him to sign out a confused, "What?"

Ellie startles, giving him an incredulous look. "Are you trying to act stupid, or do you really have no idea what you just did?"

Henry's scared of the answer himself, for a reason he cannot specify. His hands fumble as he flushes, "Nothing happened."

Her eyes narrow, and a bead of nervous sweat rolls down his neck. It's way too early for Henry's face to be as warm as it is. He can hear his own heartbeat in his ears, and he _knows_ he must be falling ill because there's no other reason to be feeling like this. 

( _Well, there is another reason,_ something deep inside of him says. And the part of him that has self preservation skills pushes it back down. Henry is well aware of what else that feeling could mean - even though he's never experienced it, he's heard of what it feels like - but it doesn't fit into the context of the situation. Right?

He's not in denial if there's nothing to deny.)

Henry can see the exact moment Ellie relents in her hounding. She turns away, and takes a sip of her cold coffee. When her eyes flick to him he can feel the knowing in her gaze. "Whatever you say, Henry," she says, and he feels something burn in his gut.

They don't talk much when Charles renters the room. ( _In his snazzy looking flight suit,_ a brand new part of his mind whispers gleefully.)

They talk even less while walking towards the mission.

* * *

"Check check, this is Charles! You guys all set up?"

Henry pressed the button on the side of his headset, letting out an answering noise. Ellie did the same beside him, "Yup, all buckled and ready to go."

"Nice! Alright, lifting up!" The helicopter roars to life, the rotors spinning outside with enough force to slice a person in half. For a second, it's just the furious beating of blades and dust kicking up in the air. Then, the copter finally lifts up the ground and flies upward. "We are air borne!"

Henry leans backwards, fighting against the momentary force trying to pull him out of the chair. The helicopter quickly accelerates in the direction of the mission.

"Air pressure's good, angle of attack is good…" the pilot murmurs over the headset, "Alrighty, we're all good!"

Henry pumps his fist in the air lazily, listening to Ellie do the energized whoop. He snaps once to get her attention, and signs, "What's the plan?"

Ellie taps the headset on the side of her face, "Hey Charles, did you get the mission plan yet?"

"Oh! Yes! I forgot to tell you, sorry!" Henry can hear the sound of a lever being pushed momentarily, and then Charles is back, "Basically, we're not sure yet! We're actually currently checking out a new spike of criminal activity in the area. They usually wouldn't send us all in for this kind of mission, but with not all the Toppats being captured during the failed space ship launch, and the possibility of Toppat wannabes rising to power, they want us to see what it's all about. If it's nothing: great! We can get back home quick. If it is something, it'll be easier to get rid of than the Toppats. We should be able to cut it off at the roots before it spreads, y'know?"

Henry hums to himself, nodding along to the information. He would prefer to get rid of these types of things before he had to deal with them again later, only stronger and smarter. 

"Well," Ellie sighs, rubbing at her face, "not to sound bloodthirsty, but it better be something. I don't want to have come all the way out here for nothing."

Charles laughs over the intercom, "Yeah, I get that. But if it is nothing, we can just fly around in the helicopter having fun all day!" That does sound pretty appealing to Henry…

The helicopter picks up some speed again, and he can hear the pilot singing a tune to himself softly. For a second, he feels so much affection for Charles that it forces a smile upon his face. Then it feels like something mentally smacks him in the face and the feeling falls like a stone. A flush rises to his face anyways, and he's frantic as he tries to rub it away. Henry can feel Ellie's eyes on him but he doesn't satisfy her with acknowledgement.

After an hour or two, he can see the shape of a strange building in the distance. "Woah," Charles hisses over the headset, and the helicopter lurches to a stop. Henry and Ellie both grab something to steady themselves at the sudden stop, trying to get a look at what Charles found so distressing about the building. 

"Oh. Are... those? Yeah- yup! Okay, yup those are definitely what I think they are. Let me just…" The copter quickly backpedals, and Henry feels a sharp pang of dread. The only time Charles backpedaled was when he was about to be targeted by things with missiles.

"What…" he grinds out at the same time Charles exclaims, "Well we found the source of the criminal activity!"

Oh, so they stumbled across the base. Henry quickly unbuckles, hustling to the helicopter's side door to get a look. A good distance away is a rather small looking base. It doesn't seem very intimidating, but he can see a structure that looks similar to a turret. Ah, so that's what forced Charles to fall back. Henry squints harder at the base, taking in the high walls and abundance of windows. There are people walking around the base, and Henry thinks they might be patrolling. Part of his mind grumbles, these people looked like they knew what they were doing. 

Ellie lurches forward, taking a step next to him. He watches her grimace and touch the headpiece, "Yup, that's the base alright. Bunch of windows, people are patrolling. These people are organized, I feel like they're a lot more than just a quick in and out."

Henry can practically imagine Charles nodding, "Yeah, this is gonna be a proper mission this time." Henry lets out an audible groan, and is satisfied when Charles chuckles. "Hey, on the bright side we get some action! We took down the biggest crime bosses in the world, this'll be a piece of cake! We got this!"

Ellie smirks at that, "You know what? You're right Charles, we _do_ got this."

"So!" He can hear the smile in the pilot's voice, and a flash of excitement runs through his veins, "what's the plan, squad?"

* * *

Henry was pleased to say the plan worked. In fact, it worked splendidly. The floor plan was quite simple, and it wasn't hard to sneak in due to the amount of windows. It was actually kind of pathetic on the guards' part. Henry had expected them to be quite organized from the patrols, but it seemed like it was just people walking around. All it took was a little bit of sneaking, a little assistance from Charles, and taking just a small USB of every single one of their future plans. 

All in all, it was a good mission. The only trouble they had was at the end. They had gotten in completely silently, and obtained the USB. After that, the security of the place spiked. Maybe them getting into the main computer set off alarms? Either way, suddenly their open way out was blocked. Charles, unfortunately, didn't have a gadget to get them out of the sticky situation. Fortunately, they were still pretty sneaky, and could get by most of the guards.

Most.

The first thought Henry had when looking out on the painfully barren courtyard was, _"Fuck."_ The second thought was that they had to run and hope they weren't gunned down. Ellie seemed to come to the same conclusion, because when he looked over her face was tense. 

Slowly, she reached up to her headset, "Hey Charles?"

"Yeah?" Came the reply.

"I think we'll have to run, could you pick us up?"

The pilot was silent for a second, probably thinking it through. Henry knew Charles was probably rubbing at the side of his headset right now; He always did that when stressed, or when thinking. Then, Charles spoke up, "Do you know what kind of missiles they have?"

Ellie blinked at the odd question, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Henry remembers seeing something about heat seekers on the computer. He snaps, before his motions spell, "Heat seeking."

"Ah, heat seeking missiles."

"How many?"

"It looks like they only had one loaded in the turret. They probably think they'd only need one."

"Oh!" Henry can practically hear Charles lighting up, "then yeah, sure! Where'd you want me to pick you up?"

Ellie frowns, and Henry mirrors her concern, "Are you sure? Those will chase you."

"Yeah I'm sure, where are you guys gonna run?"

"Um…" Ellie turns to him, and he gestures to the shortest path. It was close to the trees, but it had a place for Charles to touch down, "Shortest path to the trees."

"Awesome! Whenever you're ready!"

Henry isn't quite sure he'd ever be ready for Charles to be shot at, but they had to get out of here. He gets ready to run, looking over at Ellie for the go to. She readies herself too, and begins to count. "Alright, we'll run at one. Three… two…"

Henry tenses, and looks out over the courtyard. There are guards checking intently. There's no way they won't notice a helicopter touching down, with two people running towards it.

"One!" Ellie shouts, and the two take off. 

Almost immediately, shots start ringing out. He can hear alarmed shouts of guards, and cries of "Fire!" Adrenaline carries them both across the field, and Henry's thankful they haven't been shot dead yet. They skid to a quick stop, kicking up dirt. Henry watches the pilot's helicopter rise above the trees, and he's happy to see that the pilot will definitely have enough room to park. 

He's not as happy when he hears the eerie click of the turret latching onto a target. Henry's head whips around, and he feels only pure dread when he watches the missile fly out. His stomach drops like a stone then, and his throat tightens painfully. He sees more than hears Ellie turn on her headset to shout out a warning. But what could Charles possibly do? He's in the air, and there's a missile coming for them. The helicopter jerks to the side, and Henry gets a perfect view of Charles… rolling down his window? If he was able to talk right now, he'd be screaming at Charles. What exactly was he trying to do, _give the missile a door in?_

Something flies out, hissing and glowing. Henry watches, dumbfounded, as the missile moves off course and chases the object instead. The missile collides, and explodes, and _what the fuck just happened?_

He doesn't get much time to process, because then the helicopter lands and there's too much dust for him to think of anything else but getting out of there. Henry moves without thinking, breaking into a sprint towards the copter which he is _sure should have blown up a moment ago._ He thinks something catches on his leg and he feels a sting. Henry doesn't see what it is, but he's sure it was a rock kicked up by the helicopter. He jumps on board then, quickly turning to help Ellie aboard too. They duck inside, avoiding any more bullets, and almost fall over when the helicopter lifts off once again. 

He practically collapses into the seat, and he hears Ellie do the same. The USB is still in his pocket, safe and secure for decoding back at the base. 

Charles whoops, and Henry's spirits lift just a little. "Yeaahh! That was awesome guys! We totally aced that mission!"

Ellie rolls her eyes, wiping some sweat off her forehead. "Yeah, I'll say that was an almost perfect mission. Didn't even get shot at until the end."

Henry nods along, and then he's suddenly reminded of the very distressing stunt Charles had just pulled. He presses the button on his headset. "That missile…"

"Impressed?" Charles asks, and the heavy feeling in his stomach disappears at the pilot's laugh, "That's a cool trick you can do! Just throw a flare out the window, and the missile dives to chase it instead of the helicopter! That's because the flare's really hot, hotter than the engines!"

"Very impressive," he agrees, and Henry's disappointed that he isn't there to see Charles fluster. He always did that at compliments.

"What a way to avoid getting shot," Ellie speaks up from the other side of the copter. She's brushing some dust off of herself. When she catches his eye, she gives him a victorious smile. "If only that worked with normal bullets, huh? Never have to worry about…"

She trails off then, her eyes catching on his leg. Her smile dies as quickly as it had grown. He squirms at the sudden intentness of her gaze. "Henry," Ellie says, and her tone feels like he's being interrogated, "is that blood?"

The helicopter jerks to the side sharply, and it almost sends Henry flying out of his seat. "WHAT?!" The pilot's voice breaks in his panic, "What about blood? What's wrong? Is Henry okay?"

The abundance of questions makes his head swim; he didn't even know he was injured until Ellie pointed it out! He fumbles to slide his pants leg up to reveal the wound. There _is_ some blood soaked through, but not a lot. The wound isn't even bad, just a little nick where something must've hit him. That rock that caught on his leg had been round, and made of metal. 

He winces when air hits the wound. Henry speaks into the headpiece, "Just got nicked a little."

That at least stops the copter from swaying. "Does it hurt?" The pilot's voice is slightly desperate, and Henry can practically feel the pilot's want to land the helicopter.

The concerned tone makes Henry smile. "Stings," he admits, and before Charles can freak out more he quickly adds, "not bad. I can wait."

"But-"

"Charles," Ellie cuts in, "it's really just a nick. Just get back to the base fast, and we can put a band-aid on it or something."

Charles is quiet for a long time. But then he whines low in his throat, "Fine."

The helicopter kicks up to top speed, and then they're off.

* * *

They land harshly on a landing pad at the base. Ellie lets out a shout of alarm, and Henry has to grip his seat to stop himself from falling over. There's frantic footsteps, and then Charles is there, looking him over with pure worry. Henry can tell when Charles sees the wound. The pilot cringes at the blood, even though Henry's sure he's seen worse injuries before.

"Stay here," he hisses, and then he runs back to the cockpit. Henry and Ellie share a look that's both confused and exasperated. Henry could real quickly just walk to the nurse's tent, Charles didn't need to fly them there-

Henry could only blink when Charles rushed back in carrying some kind of vest. The vest is bulky, and it has too many things attached to it to count. Charles quickly places it down on the ground of the copter and kneels down on one knee. Before Henry could talk or sign or _anything,_ Charles is grabbing his leg and adjusting it so it's over his other knee. Then he's digging into whatever's attached to the vest.

"Woah," Ellie says, sounding as overwhelmed as Henry feels. "What is that?"

"Survival vest," Charles murmurs, still digging at something on the vest, "carries everything I need in case I crash. Food, water, emergency blankets, stuff to make fire, and…" he pulls out a white box with a red cross on it, "a first aid kit."

At that, Henry puts his leg back down to shift backwards, shaking his head at Charles, and hissing out a quick, "I can go to the nurses! You need that!"

Charles takes his leg back, though his grip is loose enough that Henry can squirm back out if he wanted to. He doesn't. "Yes, I need this to make sure you're okay! I can always just get back the stuff I use, y'know." He pops the case open, and takes out some bandages and a bottle. "It'll be real quick, I'm barely even using anything from it."

Henry still isn't completely happy that Charles is using his _emergency supplies that he's supposed to use only in crashes,_ but he doesn't want Charles to be worried about him either. Besides, the nice feelings filling his chest only grow with Charles touching him.

"Is there anything I can do?" Ellie speaks up from the corner.

"No, just let me…" Charles pulls out some kind of rag, and dumps the fluid from the bottle onto it. He rubs it over the injury, and Henry only winces a little when it stings. The pilot frowns at that, but continues nevertheless. He grabs the bandage then, but before he wraps it around Henry's leg he inspects the wound. After a moment of glaring at it like it'll go away, Charles whispers, "No, you won't need stitches." He wraps the bandage then, finishing it off with a piece of adhesive. 

"There!" Charles chirps, happy with his work, and then their eyes lock. Henry's sure his heart stops in his chest. The traitorous warmth is back with a vengeance now, not letting itself being ignored. Part of him sings in delight, practically dancing behind his eyes. That other part, that was so violently pushing feelings down earlier, does little more than hum in apprehension. Charles pats the bandage, giving an unsure smile. Though, Henry can see that spark of wanting something in his eyes. Henry wonders what Charles could possibly want. Henry was a master thief, he could get it for him. He would get Charles anything if he just asked. That kind of scared him, the want to get whatever Charles wanted as long as it made him happy. He isn't quite sure he's felt that before. Every part of his life had been looking out for himself.

Maybe that could change.

What felt like hours was little more than a few seconds. The pilot's eyes fall, and Henry can see pink rise to his cheeks. The pilot coughs and stands sharply. His smile is too wide as he says, "Alrighty! That's it, all done! I'll let the General know we're here!" And then Charles springs out of the helicopter without another word.

Henry watches him go, still unsure about the fluttering in his chest. The feeling of Charles wrapping the bandage ghost over his skin, and he wonders what that means. 

He's jerked out of whatever trance he's in by Ellie's laughter. Henry jumps, feeling a vicious wave of heat rush to his face, and turns to give her a look that could kill. This just amuses her further. "Nothing happened huh?" She asks, and he's reminded of what happened in the kitchen. He pushes the memory away, "Nothing my ass. How long have you liked him?"

Henry blinks at her in confusion, not quite getting what she meant. How long has he liked Charles? From the first time they met, obviously. He tilts his head, hoping she'll explain. 

"How long have you liked him?" She asks again, leaning forward, "You know, all the mushy stuff? Wanting to woo him under the night sky? Kissing over dinner?" He blanks, staring at her. She must take it for something different, because her tone changes. "Unless you're not into romance? Just want to take him to-"

_What in the world was she fucking talking about?_

He waves his hands sharply, cutting her off. His motions are tense, "What do you mean?"

This wasn't the response she was expecting, he can tell. "You love Charles." She says, like that sentence is a fact and not an accusation. "You guys are closer than most other people I know. You stare at his face _all the time._ "

"I just pay attention to him when he talks!"

"You stayed over at his place last night! He only has one bed in there, didn't you guys cuddle or something?"

"No!" The word comes out strangled. Is that what Ellie's been thinking all this time? That they _cuddled?_ Henry's hands fly around in a vain attempt at helping him, not quite getting out actual signs. After a few moments of doing nothing but flailing and blushing, he grits out, "He slept on the _couch!_ "

"Not even together yet, and you've already sent him to the couch?" Ellie's voice is teasing, "That's cold."

"I didn't send him anywhere, I must've fallen asleep and he put me there."

"Aw," Ellie giggles at Henry's murderous look, "How sweet, he cares about you. Must make you all warm in the chest, huh?"

"He's being a good friend- _I'm_ just being a good friend!" Henry feels like he's fighting a losing battle.

Ellie deadpans, "When he stretched in the kitchen you looked like you were gonna jump on him or something. That's not how 'just friends' act with each other. And that? What just happened?" She waves at him for emphasis, "The most intense eye contact I've ever seen. You have it bad, Henry." 

Henry's sure all his blood is in his face at the moment. "I don't-" he fumbles, and grits his teeth, "love him." He points to where Charles fled, and turns to look in said direction. He's rewarded with the visual of Charles promptly tripping while walking in the opposite direction and falling on his ass. For a second, the pilot sits there, and then he starts laughing like crazy. Henry stares in confusion, alarmed when all the new feelings he's been feeling around Charles lately hit him at full force.

His chest pretty much spasms with how hard his heart is beating, accented by the weird fluttering in his stomach. His face is hot - too hot - it almost feels like he's melting. His arm is tingling where Charles had touched it, and the ghost feelings make him break out in goosebumps.

Then, he remembers everything that's happened. The happiness in the hug they shared when Henry first came over. The fondness whenever Charles did something that was just so _him._ Just how flattered he felt when Charles seemed to know everything he liked. The desire to give Charles anything that made him happy. The stretch in the kitchen, how he seemed to be put in a trance. And then just how, the tension and the nervous fluttering.

He wasn't in denial, he had said.

Henry knows his mouth must've dropped open, staring where Charles had disappeared with a bright red face. Because even though Henry was the master thief, he had his heart stolen right under his nose by none other than Charles Calvin.

He blinks, and can do nothing but hiss, "Son of a _bitch._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHATS UP STICKMIN COMMUNITY. So hi, this is my first post for this fandom, but if everything goes to plan it won't be my last!
> 
> In order to keep myself in track and make sure I finish the fic my friend recommended me to wait until I was done with the whole thing before posting. I NEARLY got it but it turns out ao3 drafts only save for a month so I decided to post the chapters. Update schedule will be one chapter a week, until I finish the last few chapters. In which I will post them all, since that was the original plan.
> 
> This chapter was started on August 19th and was finished on August 25th. However, the fic was thought of, and was outlined a few days before beginning writing.


	2. Dealing with it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey," he hears fingers snap inches away from his face. Henry quickly opens his eyes. He regrets it, because then Charles is looking at him with a level of concern in his eyes that makes his chest flutter. "You can hear me right? Haven't forgotten anything?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY I JUST WANTED TO SAY THANK YOU FOR ALL THE KIND COMMENTS ON THE LAST CHAPTER. I LOVE YOU ALL
> 
> Also no angst, just fluff

Denial is a funny thing. It takes whatever feelings you don't want to be feeling, and says "No thank you!" before throwing said feelings in the trash. Denial then pointedly ignores the trash when all the feelings thrown away start to pile up. Every moment, every little flash of emotion is thrown in there, leading to a monstrous tower of feelings. It would be intimidating to Denial, if Denial would just look over at the trash monster and deal with it. But no, Denial just keeps on piling stuff up until it cannot be piled any higher. When that tower starts to sway and groan, Denial can only stand there and accept defeat, or grab a match and light it up.

His Denial only got halfway through lighting the match before Ellie forcefully smacked it out of its hands. This left Henry, the unfortunate victim, to try to survive the best he could when that tower of repressed feelings abruptly crashed right on top of him. 

For crying out loud, he didn't even _know_ what these feelings were until _Ellie_ pointed it out! Thanks for nothing, you worthless defense mechanism. 

So yeah, maybe he didn't take the news that he was in love with Charles (oh god he was in love with Charles) that well.

_"Did you not know?!"_ comes Ellie's both disbelieving and delighted cry. 

Henry manages to not scream, somehow, but his hands grip the sides of his head as if it'll help. He is still very much overwhelmed with the knowledge that he was in _love with Charles,_ so sue him for not being one hundred percent put together. A half strangled sound leaves his mouth instead of the frantic screaming inside his brain. Which, he'll take, because the helicopter door is still very much open and screaming will probably make people look.

If Charles was nearby and heard, he'd probably have a mini heart attack. Charles would also probably freak out because if he was off put by Henry bleeding, he would be terrified of Henry screaming. And then when he got there Henry would have to deal with his feelings and maybe even have to admit them to explain that, "Oh he's fine Charles, he just realized he loved you and is kind of having a breakdown over it! It's all good though, he's not hurt!"

Though the concern would be nice… his chest warmed at the thought and-

This was NOT the time to start daydreaming about Charles!

Or was it? He'd kind of missed the opportunity a little bit before because of the whole denial thing. Besides, it's not like he didn't daydream about Charles _before,_ he just didn't know what it meant until now. Henry was always confused about why those daydreams always seemed to completely stop when the two of them would lean towards each other in the dream. Now he was painfully aware of what the cut offs were supposed to imply. It was actually kind of unfair, he probably would've figured out his feelings sooner if it had continued. It wasn't exactly "no homo" to fantasize about kissing your best friend under the stars. But of course, his brain didn't even allow him that. He'd never gotten the chance to kiss Charles, fantasy or not. 

Henry wondered if Charles was a good kisser. He must have been decent enough in Henry’s dream; his brain had completely cut off the daydreams in fear of Henry _actually_ wanting to kiss Charles in real life. _But that kind of backfired, huh Brain?_ Now he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it. Knowing them, they'd probably have a first kiss with no plan involved in any way. The both of them were pretty impulsive, though Henry was a little better than Charles. But he couldn't deny, if he got the opportunity... he wouldn't hesitate to grab Charles by his flight suit's turtleneck collar and drag him closer to-

_NOW WAS NOT THE TIME,_ his mind screamed at him. 

His mind was right, but he was still really bitter about being thrown out of a daydream just before the kiss _again._

"It's okay, take your time to process," Ellie speaks, and Henry is suddenly brought back to reality. Her voice is a little softer than normal, but he guesses he had been staring off into space for a while. 

He shakes his head sharply, dragging his hands down his face. He makes another non-human noise while doing so, still uncomfortably warm in the face. After a small moment of recollecting himself, he has the courage to turn and face Ellie. She at least looks a little sympathetic, if not amused. 

"Never been attracted to a guy before?" She guesses. 

Henry shakes his head slowly, thinking about all the guys he had been attracted to before. While yes, he is _very_ much attracted to Charles, this was… also something else. He wanted to stay with Charles into the distant future. He wanted to get to know Charles as well as the pilot knew himself. Henry wanted… to get attached. 

"I have felt attraction before, but this is new," he admits, his motions slow and calculated. His throat's painfully tight now, he's never had to deal with this feeling before. 

Ellie squints, thinking hard before, "New? What's new?"

"The feeling, it's..." As he signs this, he takes a seat. He has a feeling this conversation is going to take a little while. "different. It's not just that kind of attraction."

Ellie nods, "You want to stay close to him, right? Want to take him on dates and make him happy? Hold his hand or whatever?"

Just thinking about it made butterflies flutter in his stomach. He guesses that confirms it. "Yes."

The redhead claps her hands together, pleased, "I'm pretty sure that's romantic attraction! The kind of stuff that gets people married and all that."

At the mention of marriage, he feels something electric hits him. Could they get married? _Would_ they get married? Charles might not want to get hitched, and that would be fine! But… but if he _did_ want to get married… Henry had that diamond. The Tunisian Diamond still was in his house, safe and tucked away. It was gigantic, and ridiculously expensive, and if Charles so much as asked he'd hand it over immediately. The diamond was important to him, incredibly so. It marked his first successful heist, and the riches he got from it. Giving it to Charles would be big, whether Charles recognized it or not. But he could think of nobody better to give it to. The diamond symbolized his first successful heist, and Charles was not only one of his first friends, but one of the first Henry really had an interest in romantically.

Henry frowns as he realizes the diamond would be too heavy to put the whole thing on a ring. Well if anyone would figure out what to do with it, it would be him. Maybe Charles could just keep it somewhere? Or Henry could just cut off a piece of it. He's not sure where he'd get it done, the diamond was very much stolen after all, but he'd figure out a way. Maybe he could try to convince someone to give him a laser cutter? Who in the world would give Henry a laser cutter though? Anyone, except maybe Charles or Ellie, would take one look at him and report him to the nearest police station if he so much as asked. He guesses that's one of the disadvantages of being a (officially) former thief. Nobody trusted him with anything more than a butter knife-

"You thought about getting married, didn't you?" He blinks, jolting upright. Being abruptly snapped out of a daydream wasn’t very pleasant. It doesn’t help that Ellie was grinning at him like a cat who caught a canary. Henry glowered, but couldn't deny it. Ellie snickered into the palm of her hand, "Oh you're so far gone, man."

_She has no idea_ , "I know." After a few seconds of silence, he signs out a hesitant, "What do I do?"

"What do you do?" Her eyebrows furrow at him, "I don't know, flirt? Talk to him?"

Flirting? Yeah, that's right, flirting is something people did when they were interested in someone. He thinks he'll be able to get it right if he researched it more; his only knowledge comes from second-hand stories and weird romance movies. Unless Charles would like that kind of cheesy stuff? Maybe... Henry thinks Charles would like a good laugh. Running one quick look through his memory gives him one or two pickup lines that he could - in theory - use. But one anxious thought sends his stomach curling. "This is Charles."

"And? You like him right?"

"Yes, but he's one of my best friends. I don't want to make it," Henry grimaces, finishing his entrance with a lame, "weird." He's seen Charles through most of the colorful window of emotions, including discomfort. It looked plain wrong on the pilot. He guesses if he always had to, he could go back to his last fail, but he wouldn't be given the mercy of being able to forget if he got rejected. It would hurt more than bullets ever would. 

He almost startles when Ellie grabs his shoulder. "Henry," she begins, and her voice is firm, "If you don't flirt, you'll never know if he's interested in the first place. You'll go to sleep at night regretting it, and then you'll be sad. And then I'll have to deal with you being sad. Neither of us want that. "

"Wow, thanks. Very helpful advice," Henry signs, though he does feel more confident. Ellie rolls her eyes at him, a grin spreading across her face. She gives his shoulder a playful punch. 

"Hey, at least it's Charles. You know Charles! It's not like he's going to bite your head off, he likes you too much." Henry hums in agreement, picking at the bandage on his leg. They felt weird on him, constricting. 

"Hey," Ellie barks at him, and Henry stops mid scratch, "don't fuck with those. Charles will have a fit and probably have to put them back on again." She pauses, and then a sly grin spreads across her face, "Oh, but you wouldn't mind that, would you?"

He flusters as that, letting out a huff. He rubs at his face in frustration. Henry isn't quite sure he likes Ellie knowing about all this loving Charles stuff anymore. It's dirty blackmail material, and Ellie is a little fiend who will use this to her advantage. 

He begins to move his hands to throw a retort back when Ellie suddenly sits up straight, face sobering. Henry feels a shot of dread, but before he can ask what’s wrong, he hears the pilot's voice behind him, “Won’t mind what?” 

His voice is like a shot to the heart, and then another punch for good measure. For a second, his stomach drops and he feels a stab of panic. He wasn’t ready to face Charles yet, he only just now realized his feelings were a thing! His earlier thoughts of them getting together, kissing, and even _getting married_ practically smack him in the face. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he jumps out of the seat and away from the pilot. 

Henry turns around quickly, nearly falling over with the momentum. He’s met with the face of Charles, who looked alarmed by Henry’s abrupt movement. Ellie leaned back in the corner, eyebrows raising at the scene before her. Henry catches her eye, desperate for some assistance. She, in fact, does not help him at all. Ellie refuses to speak a single word, content with leaving Henry in his own mess. He can see the amused glint in her eye as she turns to look at him, and he curses her out inside his head in multiple different ways.  
  


“Oh!” Charles gives an apologetic smile that makes Henry’s heart skip a beat. _He was really pretty..._ “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you!” 

He gapes like a fish for a few moments, not quite sure what to say, or if he could even speak. Instead of words, out comes a wheeze. Inside his head, his brain starts screaming at him. _He can't just stand there like a statue! He has to say something, or do something! Anything!_

Charles furrows his brows at this, and takes another step into the helicopter. “Hey,” he says, and it’s so soft that Henry nearly dies on the spot, “are you ok? You look really red. Are you...” the pilot trails off, squinting at him. Henry’s terrified of what the silence could mean. He nearly jumps into the cockpit to maybe find a window to crawl out of when Charles takes a step forward.

“Um!” He manages to force out, brain quickly swiping through all the possible things he could do in this situation. Run was one of them, but he doesn’t think running from Charles would be a good idea. Not even mentioning how hard Ellie would tease him for fleeing. Telling Charles to back off would work, but the mere _thought_ of even doing it upsets him. It would probably make Charles sad, and that would just hurt more. He could just stay silent. That would probably be the best option. But when has he ever gone with the best option?

His mind suddenly stops on a conversation topic from earlier: flirting. Henry has nothing prepared at all, except maybe those two pickup lines from earlier, but he guesses just saying one of them would be better than nothing. He'd even be able to hit two birds with one stone! Figuring out if Charles would be interested, _and_ getting used to expressing his feelings! 

His chest swells, and Henry suddenly feels more confident in himself. He has this! Charles was his best friend; he knew him better than almost anyone else! Henry could one hundred percent win his heart! Just lean on a wall or something, wink, say something suavely and BOOM! Instantly smitten! That's how it always was in the movies! This is a perfect plan!

He straightens his back until he's standing at his full height. A confident grin spreads across his face, and he's bold enough to look Charles in the eyes. The pilot looked surprised at his sudden change in demeanor. He hesitated just briefly, and that's all Henry needed.

Henry knows it's cheesy, but he can't help but wink and bring up a finger gun. "Hey," Henry begins, and he's proud of how sure his voice sounds. Caught in the joy of everything going right, he goes for the one handed wall lean. "If you were a Transformer, you'd be-"

The rest of the word drags out into an alarmed yelp. Instead of leaning on the wall, which he was aiming for, he completely missed. His hand hit nothing but air, and left him in free fall. He was so confident _\- so focused -_ on the situation at hand he didn't even notice he was still a good ways away from the wall. He's only able to catch the pilot's alarmed face, and then he's falling sideways.

His hands flail around in the air, trying to desperately catch something instead of crashing to the ground. Lucky for him, he does catch something before he hits the ground! Only, he didn't catch it with his hand, he caught it with his head. The side of his head hits the wall painfully, and a sharp spike of pain explodes in his head.

You know… the wall. You remember the wall, right? The same wall that decided it was too far away for his arm to lean on? Yeah, it decided to come back with a vengeance. All because he wasn't ever allowed to have things go smooth.

He doesn't have the time to be pissed at the wall though, because as soon as he hits the wall he's quickly approaching the floor. He lands in a dazed, pained heap, not quite sure what direction was up or down. The colors blur together for a second, everything a giant blob of confusion. Henry thinks he feels something warm touch his shoulder and shake him.

After a few moments of blinking up at what he thinks is the helicopter's ceiling, Henry is finally able to feel the pure embarrassment hit him. He closes his eyes, and is very disappointed the wall didn't finish the job and knock him out. That would be better than having to face other people after… all _that._

He was so fucked.

"-nry! Henry! Oh my god, are you okay? Can you hear me?!"

The ringing in his ears left as quickly as it had come. Henry's then thrown into the loud reality of Charles screaming at him, near hysterical. When he looks up groggily (the shapes are still kind of dancing in his head), he's able to see the pure concern flashing in the pilot's eyes. 

When they lock eyes, Charles practically jumps onto him, grabbing his jaw firmly to direct his head upwards. A surprised sound leaves Henry's throat, eyes widening. The embarrassment mixed with the fluttering feelings in his stomach to create one great flush across his cheeks. 

"Wait wait wait- no! Wait, don't move I gotta see…" Charles hums, shifting to get a better look at him. Henry gets a very close up view of the pilot intently staring into his eyes, and then moving even closer. Oh... a thought slowly forms in his brain. They were just a small movement away from kissing. _Huh,_ his fuzzy mind thinks, _all it took to get a kiss was fall over and smash his head into a wall._ Don't get him wrong, he'll take it! He'll definitely take it.

Henry takes in a breath, and is about to move forward-

Charles jerks away, leaving Henry blinking in confusion. The pilot's voice is clear in its distress, "Um! His pupils looked normal, but now they're dilating! Is- is that bad? I can't tell! I was just told to look for really big pupils or if they're two different sizes!"

What? Did Henry misjudge the situation? Was that not a dramatic scene where they'd both lean in and share a moment? His lips were still half puckered, falling down lamely. That's a shame, he really could've gone for a kiss. That would've made the painful throbbing in the side of his head a little more bearable.

He blinks, and realizes he just tried to lean in for a _kiss._

Another round of internal screaming starts up inside his head. What in the world was that! That was nothing like what he had in plan! How could he have possibly missed the _wall?_ It's not like it moved or anything! God, that was such a stupid move, Charles was not going to be enamored with Henry fucking up and giving himself a concussion! And don't even get him started on that attempt at a kiss. Why in the world would Charles try to kiss him after he got head trauma? 

"I don't know, Charles, I'm not a doctor," a feminine voice speaks up. He closes his eyes painfully tight. Henry fights the urge to slam his head back into the ground again in a vain attempt to knock himself out.

Apparently, he also did all that with Ellie in the room. He was NEVER going to live this one down, was he?

"Hey," he hears fingers snap inches away from his face. Henry quickly opens his eyes. He regrets it, because then Charles is looking at him with a level of concern in his eyes that makes his chest flutter. "You can hear me right? Haven't forgotten anything?"

Henry hesitates, caught between his embarrassment and need to reassure Charles he was okay. Instead, the pain in his temple decides to let itself be known with a stab. He flinches, a hand flying to where the pain is worse. He groans then, rubbing at the spot to try to make the pain go away. "Ow,"

Charles does not take this well. He grabs Henry by the shoulders, looking even more upset. He hisses, " _Please_ don't tell me you've forgotten stuff, because that wouldn't be good! I'd have to tell you everything you've forgotten, and it'd be a shame because it would never recreate the original magic-"

"Charles, if he has a concussion, rambling at him might just overwhelm him, not help." 

"Oh right," Charles mutters, running a stressed hand down his face. Henry's gut twists painfully in his guilt. 

"I'm fine," he mumbles, waving a hand around in the air. He isn't quite sure what the hand was supposed to do, so he let's it fall after a few seconds. When Charles gives him a doubtful look, he adds with his hands, "Head hurts though."

"Well yeah," Ellie kneels by the pilot's side, giving him a quick once over. "you almost cracked your head open on the wall there." As she says this, she knocks a fist against her temple.

Charles cringes at the wording, "It did look a little nasty, you were dazed for a couple seconds." The pilot's eyebrows furrow, "I think."

He pushes himself up, ignoring the shriek of protest that comes from his head. Before Charles or Ellie could worry about him moving, he jumps back on his feet. This, instead, makes him wobble dangerously. Before he could fall again and perhaps gain himself another bump on his head, he catches himself. Smiling at the others, who were both exasperated and uneasy, he messily signed, “All good, I’m all good!”

“You’re barely on your feet,” Ellie does not look amused with him, probably annoyed that he was being so stubborn.

Henry waves another hand, dismissing her with a hum. Had he felt any more merciful, perhaps he would have listened to her. However, he was still bitter about Ellie leaving him to the metaphorical wolves a moment ago. Besides, the embarrassment from the whole situation was still staining his face, and he was just barely fighting the need to run as far away as possible. The only thing really stopping him was Charles in the doorway, and Ellie by his side. The both of them were deceivingly strong, and if they were really concerned they would not hesitate to pick him up to carry him to the nurses themselves, struggling be damned. 

In fact, Charles steps forward, “Could we maybe take you to the nurses? Just in case? Just a second ago you said you could go for your injury! I’ve already let the General know we’re here, and he said we can go take care of stuff!” Henry gives him a doubtful look, and Charles must mistake it for something else. He giggles, giving Henry a wink. It makes him flush, and he’s glad he has the excuse of being embarrassed to hide why he was really blushing. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell the nurses you fell after we got here, I’ll say it was during the mission.” 

“Wait a second,” Ellie steps in, “Henry, don’t you still have that USB?” Henry stares at Ellie in bewilderment, giving a curt nod that does _not_ help with his headache. “Then why don’t you give it to Charles? He can give it to the General or something, I can take you to the doctors.” As she says this, she gives him a covert wink. It looks like she was trying to make up for earlier. 

Or maybe she was just trying to get him alone to tease him.

“Are you sure?” Charles hums, “the USB could wait. Henry potentially having a concussion is more important than a stick.”

“You know how the General’s like, you best not keep him waiting.” Ellie shifts so she can clap a hand on Henry’s shoulder. She sends Charles a winning smile. Henry can see right through her, she’s one hundred percent trying to get Henry alone. Henry silently begs Charles to come with; if he’s left alone with Ellie he’ll be picked on without mercy. “If you want, you can run and hurry back?”

Charles still seems hesitant, giving Henry a worried look. He’s flattered by the concern, and definitely happy Charles wouldn’t abandon him at the drop of a hat. 

“It’ll be fine!” 

“If you say so…” Charles mumbles slowly. Henry hides his disappointment by digging through his pockets. When he finds the USB, he’s definitely not quick to hold it out. Charles meets him in the middle, taking the USB quickly and stashing it. The pilot looks like he wants to head out immediately, probably to take Ellie’s recommendation of running to heart. “I will be…” Charles trails off, taking a step back towards the door, “right back!”

And then, just like that, Charles takes off once again in the direction of the General. 

Leaving just him and Ellie. Alone. After the biggest blunder he’s ever committed.

“So,” she says, mischievous, and he groans.

His motions are short and to the point, “We’re not talking about it.” 

“Oh we one hundred percent are!” Ellie crosses her arms at him, and a grin spreads across her face, “If he were a Transformer, huh?”

Growling under his breath, he rubs at his red face, “It was the first thing that came to mind!”

“It was lame, and you didn't even get to finish the line.”

“I know!” Henry gestures sharply, frustrated. He’s beyond embarrassed at this point. “I thought he’d like a cheesy one? I don’t know, he seems like the type who’d want to laugh while being romanced.”

“Okay that’s…” Ellie smiles, “actually kind of sweet.” Henry’s able to be proud of himself for one split second before Ellie adds, “Would’ve been sweeter if you didn’t nearly knock yourself out after it.”

He hisses, the pain in his head practically coming back to life at its mention. “Thanks,” he signs, discouraged.

“You know, when I asked if you liked him,” Ellie’s smile grows, “I didn’t expect you to actually fall for him.”

He blanks, staring at Ellie. Fell for him. He fell for Charles. Muffling his snarl in his hands, he quickly mutters, “ _I_ should’ve said that.”

Ellie laughs loudly at his despair. 

* * *

After one long uncomfortable walk to the nurses, they learned that Henry did not, in fact, have a concussion. Somehow he managed to dodge brain damage, but he did not dodge a damaged pride. When the nurse asked how he had gotten the injury, Ellie _snitched_ to the nurse without any hesitation! He had never felt more betrayed when the two of them looked at him and _giggled._

“Fuck you Ellie,” he had signed back sharply, “I am uninviting you from movie night _forever._ ”

She gasped, scandalized. And thus started a mini “boxing” match in the nurse’s office, even though Henry was _injured_. After a moment of childish slapping, and shouting insults at each other, the nurse separated them before things could escalate. 

The nurse then almost ruined the pilot's hard work on Henry’s leg. He threw a fit at that, firmly shaking his head no at the action. Charles said he didn’t need stitches, and honestly the wound didn’t even hurt anymore! There was no need to remove the dressing, especially since he didn’t even bleed through yet. Henry could hear Ellie holding back laughter at his insistence, but it wasn’t _her_ wound that was lovingly wrapped up by her loved one so she had no idea how he was feeling. The nurse relented the third time when they tried to grab at it and Henry gave them the evil eye.

Henry was quickly discharged after that, and he wasted no time from speed walking out of the establishment. He was never really a fan of the doctor’s. They tended to pry into business that wasn’t theirs. It didn’t help that Ellie had revealed that his almost concussion was due to a flirting fail. _Oh well,_ he hums inside his head, _he guesses he’s lucky she didn’t reveal_ who _he was flirting with._

That kind of knowledge spreads like wildfire, especially in a camp full of bored soldiers just waiting for the next big thing. He was once witness to the announcement that someone (he couldn’t for the life of him remember their name) got engaged to their spouse over the weekend. Within moments, everyone in the room knew. By the end of the day, the whole base was buzzing with the news. It was like a bunch of people watching a soap opera cheering at the top of their longs whenever something even relatively of interest happened. It would be endearing, or even amusing, if he wasn’t at risk at the same thing happening to him. Sue him, but he liked his privacy. That was why he lived in a house practically in the middle of nowhere!

It was also why he was running back over to the inn as fast as possible to get back inside. He had already sent a text to Charles so the pilot wouldn't have a heart attack when Henry wasn't at the nurses. 

He was almost there when something grabbed him by the shoulder. He almost jumps. He had been brooding too loudly in his head again. This was starting to become a problem, wasn’t it? 

He didn’t focus much on it, because the something was a hand that belonged to someone he was pleased to see. Charles was there, beaming at him. He did look a little disheveled though, probably due to him running back and forth. The General’s office was a good way away from the Medical Segment of the base, and if he knew Charles (which he did) he most likely ran the whole distance. There was no stopping a determined Charles, he thought with great fondness.

“Hey! You got out before I could get back!” his other hand landed on Henry’s other shoulder, and the pilot gave him a once over. Henry fights the furious warmth threatening to rise to his face. “I’m hoping you were discharged, and that you didn’t break out?” 

“Oh no,” now _that_ made them both jump. Henry looks behind him to find Ellie jogging towards the two of them. 

Charles frowns at this, giving Henry a displeased look. “ _Did_ you break out?”

Henry huffs, opening his mouth to defend himself only to be cut off by Ellie, “No, he was discharged.” She stops a few steps away from them, “Just fled as soon as he could, left me in the dust.”

“Oh!” Charles goes back to beaming, smiling so wide it had to have hurt. It certainly made Henry’s heart do flips. “Then he doesn’t have a concussion?” 

“Nope,” She clicks her tongue, grinning at him, “just a wounded ego.”

“She _snitched,_ ” Henry motions furiously, giving Ellie the best glare he could. She did not look intimidated at all.

“Snitched?” Charles echoed.

“Charles was the one to say he wouldn’t tell, I didn’t say anything about it.”

Henry huffs, swiping at her half heartedly. Due to Charles having a grip on both his shoulders (he is absolutely not thinking about how close they were), he has much more limited arm movement. She easily steps away from it, barely even moving an inch. That sends a burst of frustration through him. He squirms, and Charles lets go immediately. Henry practically jumps back to point an accusatory finger at Ellie. “She is never allowed at a movie night again,” he signs sharply.

Charles stares at him for a moment, before turning slowly to Ellie. “What did you do that got you banned from movie nights,” Charles was hopelessly baffled at the situation, it was clear with both his tone and the look on his face.

Henry growls, “She-”

“I told the nurse he fell over in the helicopter.”

“Oh,” Charles just barely holds back a giggle, but Henry can still hear the humor in his voice. He turns his head sharply, staring open mouthed at the _man he loved_ in utter betrayal. At this, Charles snickers harder into his palm. “Ellie, you shouldn’t have done that. The nurses are horrible gossipers.” 

“They are?” Charles nods, giving Henry a sympathetic look. However, Henry can see the amusement there. He squinted at the pilot, fighting the urge to smile when the pilot's lips curled. Henry couldn’t stay mad at him for long. Curse his cute face and kind personality and- 

“Whoops,” Ellie says, having the decency to look a little regretful.

Henry huffs, signing slowly "if someone walks up to me tomorrow trying to tease me, I will break noses."

Charles bumps his side playfully, trying to lighten his mood. The pilot smiles, "They won't be _that_ bad, everyone slips up and does something embarrassing from time to time!" _Not while talking to someone they wanted to romance,_ Henry grumbles inside his head. "And hey, if they do get out of hand, you can just like steal something not important from them or something."

Henry stares at Charles for a long time, shocked. Then, slowly, he brings his hands up, "Are you…" his motions quickly become excited, "allowing me to do crimes?"

Charles is caught between a laugh and a grimace, "Well it sounds bad when you put it that way. But… yeah?"

Oh he's practically begging for the teasing now. Henry rubs his hands together, deviously excited for the first poor fool to show up. 

“Uh oh,” Ellie hums, elbowing the pilot's side, “look at what you did.”

Charles lets out a nervous laugh, “We need to get him inside before he breaks loose.”

Ellie lights up at this, “Oh, speaking of inside, didn’t you say something about doing stuff after the mission?”

“Yes!” A blinding grin spreads across the pilot's face, and Henry’s heart jumps happily, “Yes I did! We can go to my place, I went on a shopping spree and got a lot of movies! I have so many,” Charles blinks slowly, and then looks off into the distance, mumbling, “maybe it would’ve been best to rent instead of buy.”

Henry couldn’t help but laugh at this, “How much did you buy?”

“Oh, you know, just…” Charles squints bringing up his fingers to count, “Uh…”

“Not good,” Ellie mumbles.

“Twenty eight!” He chirps in victory.

Ellie rubs her temple, “You are aware that an average movie is over an hour long, right?”

Charles nods, “Yes.”

“You got twenty eight movies.”

He nods harder, “Also yes!” 

“If we watched them all in a row, it would take longer than a whole day to get done with.”

“Mhm, I am very much aware!”

“It would take longer than a day to get done with.” Ellie repeats, face blank.

Charles claps his hands, and a sly look sparkles in his eyes. The pilot's eyes dart over to Henry, and his heart swoops when Charles drawls, “Guess you’ll just have to stay over!” That must've been the pilot's plan all along: get them to stay over and have a nice day to relax all to themselves. 

But Henry blinks, taking in the pilot's words. Slowly, an idea - a very bad idea - pops into existence in his mind. A smirk slides across his face, and he steps forward. Putting on his best suave tone of voice, he purrs, “I'd love to stay over at your place any day!"

Perfect! Now _that_ was flirting! No falling over this time too! All Henry had to do now was wait for Charles to blush, and then he could-

“Awesome!” Charles turns to Ellie, “What about you?”

Huh?

Henry blinks at the pilot, confused by the lack of response. Was that it? Usually whenever Charles got so much as complimented he flushed to the high heavens! Henry was _sure_ he would’ve turned as red as a tomato from flirtatious comments! Did he just handle flirting better than complements? He thought Charles would have at least laughed or something, but he basically did nothing. This felt too… empty of a response. It was more like he was being brushed off. 

Oh, was that a rejection?

Ellie hums, and seems to sense a change in atmosphere. She quickly mumbles, “If I have to listen to Henry scream at the TV for more than four hours I cannot guarantee his safety.”

Charles laughs, and gives Henry a little pat on the back. “I guess that’s fair…so around four hours then?” Charles then turned to Henry, with a questioning smile. Charles wasn’t… angry. He wasn’t saddened or awkward at all. The pilot looked like he didn’t just reject Henry, like nothing just happened. 

_Maybe not a rejection then,_ his mind whispered. Did Charles not notice what Henry said, or did Henry just say it wrong? Thinking back on it, saying he wanted to stay over at the pilot's house any day wasn't necessarily... explicitly flirty. Well, it could be taken as flirting, but Charles obviously didn't take it that way. It could be taken as Henry just wanting to hang out all the time. Henry grumbles inside his mind, he wasn't that great at the whole flirting via words thing, huh? 

Ellie suddenly nods from besides him, and Henry remembers Charles was talking to him. He offers a rushed nod too, and Charles hands fly up in victory, “Cool!” The pilot’s hand moves to his right pocket, “ Okay, let me just get my-” He abruptly stops, digging around in his pocket. Henry suddenly feels a wide grin stretch on his face, which he hides with a hand. “Okay, not there let me…” Charles digs into another pocket, only to be met with the same conclusion. 

“Charles,” Ellie says, dangerously calm. 

“Hang on!” The pilot holds one finger up, and goes to rifle through his other pockets. After a few more seconds of digging, Charles slumps. 

Henry is desperately trying to stop his snicker. He knew it. In fact, he _called_ it the other day. It was just a Charles thing to do, and here Charles was, doing the thing.

“My keys…” Charles mumbles, dragging a hand down his face.

“ _Charles._ ”

“It’s fine,” Henry signs, giggling, “we’ll just have to get in some other way.”

Charles gives him a look, “We are _not_ breaking my window.”

“Not your window, then. How fond of your door are you?”

* * *

In the end, they actually didn’t break down the pilot's door. It was probably because Henry had a huge crush on him, and breaking down his door would make the former thief feel bad. It didn’t help that when they got to the pilot’s door, he turned to Henry and gave him the saddest look he’s ever seen. Henry was able to bring out one of his oldest skills: lock picking. He was a natural at it, being a thief and all. Within moments, they were inside of the pilot's place, without a broken door. 

Charles had immediately rushed inside to find his keys. Digging around in the corners to see where he had thrown them. Without even missing a beat, Henry had stepped over to where he remembered the jingling from the other night, and pulled them out of the little hole they had managed to wedge themselves in. Somehow, they ended up in a closet that had been left ajar at the time.

Charles had hummed his little tune that he always sang when pleased, and took the keys back. The warmth in Henry’s chest just further confirmed that _yup he loved this man._

Ellie had already collapsed on the couch, taking up nearly half of it. That left Charles and Henry trying to shuffle and fit into the smaller space left for them. Not that Henry was complaining, the pilot's side was pleasantly warm. 

The first movie started, and so did Henry’s ritual of signing insults at the TV. In his defense, the first movie really was terribly produced. Both Ellie and Charles had to agree with him on that one. Every terrible bit of CGI had him groaning, and every unrealistic battle scene nearly had him clawing his eyes out. By the end of the movie, he was seconds away from actually screaming at the top of his lungs. The whole thing was just so incredibly _frustrating._ That was not how explosions work, he would know! And everyone looked terribly dramatic as they did it, his missions never went that smoothly! 

The second and third went by without a lot of harassment aimed at the production companies, but then the fourth and final movie came along. It was horrible, absolutely shitty in every way. The movie was supposed to be some kind of action movie set on another planet, where a monster was attacking the crew. The world building was just plain bad, and refused to answer questions that the audience needed to know. And the action itself was enough to almost make Henry break a tooth from how hard he was grinding his teeth together.

Another gun fight started up, and Henry's fists clenched. The way they were holding the guns was all wrong! What exactly did these people think they were doing, trying to break a wrist? Ellie hissed her disapproval from the other side of the couch, also disappointed in the movie. The CGI monster came back onto the screen, and Henry _felt_ his blood pressure go up. _He hated that stupid looking monster with his whole being._ It’s fur looked like plastic cut into little triangles! It was so… horribly rendered!

He opened his mouth, one hundred percent ready to drag this dumb cookie monster look-alike through the mud if he had to. With a snarl, “Are you _serious?_ That thing again!? I swear I am going to turn this movie o-”

Henry’s furious rant dies in his throat when something bumps into his shoulder. He looks over, confused, and feels his heart skip a beat when he realizes it was Charles. Henry stares for a second, his mind humming happily at the contact. 

"Is he… asleep?" Ellie whispers from the other side of the couch. "Really?"

Carefully, to not wake him up in case he _was_ sleeping, Henry leans forward. He has to shift Charles just slightly so he can get a look at the pilot's face to see and- yup he was out cold.

Charles does not seem to appreciate Henry moving him, because he groans. Then, he shifts so he is cuddling further into Henry's side. Henry can feel his heartbeat in his ears. _This is how he dies,_ Henry thinks to himself, _imploding from the pure amount of feelings in his chest._ For a moment, he's aware of nothing but the soft pressure on his arm. The light from the movie paints light on the pilot’s face. He looks peaceful when he’s asleep. Henry smiles, a soft emotion blossoming in him. 

What he wouldn’t do to see that every time he went to sleep.

“Henry?” 

Oh, he forgot to answer Ellie. He goes to move his arm to sign something, but quickly stops at the pilot's whine. The pilot shifts, grumbling in what Henry thinks is frustration. He’s about to apologize to Charles, but the words die when the pilot practically flops on top of the former thief. Henry’s breath catches in his throat when the pilot arms wrap around him. The pilot’s head unceremoniously sags into Henry’s shoulder, and the pilot's face presses into the side of Henry’s neck.

Oh.

Henry looks over to the redhead, helplessly flustered at the situation. Ellie only hides a smile behind her hand, “Yup, he’s definitely asleep.”

What exactly is he supposed to do here? Wake Charles up and ask him to move? No, the fond part of him promptly screamed out at that idea. Not only would he lose the contact, but Charles would probably feel bad about it! Charles had let his arm go while moving to capture him, so now his hands were free. Was he supposed to put his hands somewhere? Maybe he could just… 

He settled the arm closest to Charles over the pilot’s back. It feels right there, and he doesn’t have to shift his arm in some ungodly position to do it. Good! Okay, he had this. This was easy! His heart definitely wasn’t freaking out right now! He hopes Charles can’t feel it and wake up from it.

“Down after the fourth movie, huh? And he said he wanted to watch all of them in a row,” Ellie mumbles, shifting to take up the space Charles had given her. "Why is he even asleep anyways? It's still pretty early."

Henry looks over to stare out the window. The sun was just beginning to set- and wow it was already sunset? The mission must have taken a lot longer than he expected. Or maybe it was just the fact that they had to take about an hour break between each movie so Henry could calm down. He hums, squinting at the dying light. The day passed a little bit too quick for his liking. He wonders if The Universe was behind all this, he knows It liked to get involved in his life whenever possible.

Either way, he turns back to face the redhead. He pauses for a little bit, eyes darting over to the TV. Henry slowly lifts the hand off the pilot's back to sign, “Could you maybe shut it off for me?"

“Whatever you say, lover-boy,” Henry gives her a dirty look, which she pointedly ignores. She smiles to herself, proud of her teasing. Suddenly, Henry wonders if the pilot's permission to steal from those who teased him applied to Ellie. His mind thinks it over, before settling on a solid yes. However, how much would be at cost if he stole from her? He got that watch the one time, but that was one small thing. Ellie might actually murder him if he stole something else. He huffs, saddened by this fact. He can’t date Charles if he’s dead, unfortunately.

Or could he? 

No, Charles would probably be _super_ upset if he got himself killed all because he was petty. 

As if he could hear Henry’s thoughts, the pilot's hands tighten around him, and the pilot mumbles something that Henry can’t make out. Henry hums in return, placing his hand back to where it was prior. Charles quickly goes back to being quiet after that.

Ellie grabs the remote, and turns the TV off. “So,” she begins, turning to Henry, “how you plan on getting out of…” she gestures to them both, “that?”

Oh, how _was_ he going to get out of this? He’s already left moving out of the equation, that would probably upset the sleeping pilot. Charles had claimed Henry’s neck as his pillow, so moving would also probably wake him up. The only real answer here would be to just… fall asleep there. No moving meant that Charles wouldn’t wake up early, which he was going for!

Then what was he going to do in the morning? Just hope that Henry woke up first, and act like nothing happened if Charles asked? He was a decent liar, so he could always say they fell asleep on the same couch, but not while clinging to each other. That would remove any potentially embarrassing situations! If Charles woke up first, he’d probably trip over himself to apologize and then Henry would be forced to reveal that, _”No it was fine! By the way. Would you like to go out sometime?”_ Which isn’t the way Henry planned to ask the pilot out. He wanted at least _some_ smoothness while trying to romance Charles.

Henry realizes he’s been thinking way too hard again; Ellie was still waiting for an answer. He blinks and slowly shakes his head.

Ellie stares at him in confusion, “No? Not leaving? Just gonna lie there and accept your fate?” Henry nods, and the redhead snorts. “If you say so, man. I’ll lock the door on my way out or something.” 

Henry nods, giving a quick wave with his other hand. Ellie seems to take this as a decent enough goodbye, for she gives him a lazy wave in return. 

At the door of the living area, she stops and turns around. Her eyes were so intense it nearly made Henry recoil. In comparison, her voice was soft, “I know I tease a lot, but you know I think you two would be great together, right?”

He blinks at her, not expecting the sudden heart to heart. “Ah,” he mumbles, shifting nervously. He quickly stills when he remembers he’s supposed to be keeping Charles _asleep._

She laughs, rubbing at her temple, “I mean look at you two, you practically act like you’re together anyways.” Henry couldn’t help the little laugh that left him. They kind of did act like a couple, huh? Knowing almost everything about each other, being physically affectionate all the time, and even now. He guesses they were a lot more close than normal friends would be. 

Or perhaps that was his bias speaking. 

He half shrugs at her, smiling. Henry will be able to ask Charles on a date eventually. Perhaps even tomorrow, if he was bold enough. He just needed a plan. And he needed to learn how flirting works apparently. 

She shakes her head at him, "Goodnight Henry, don't let Charles strangle you in your sleep." And without another word, she walks into the other room. There's the sound of her walking, the door opening, and then a click. Ellie was gone.

This left Henry, laying down on the pilot's couch while Charles snuggled up to him like he was some giant teddy bear. Not that Henry was complaining, currently his heart was singling like a song bird in his chest, but now he didn't feel sleepy at all. Oh no, he was very much awake. Henry didn't usually go to sleep unless it was later in the day, or if he was feeling really drained after a day. That could take a good few hours though, and Henry didn't feel like staring into space until he passed out.

Henry suddenly gets an idea. Carefully so he doesn't disturb the pilot, Henry shifts to reach down into his pocket. Slowly he pulls out his phone. There was no greater time-killer than scrolling through the internet, right? Besides, he thinks he has some research to do. It was hard to type it out with one hand, but he manages to get what he needed into the search bar.

"How to flirt?" He stares at the screen as it loads, his free hand drawing idle circles on the pilot's back. When the results pop up, he can do nothing but stare. The amount of results didn't surprise him, it was what the results were saying. Most of the results just said keep eye contact, listen, and smile. A couple said to complement the one you were trying to romance. 

He isn't quite sure the resources are telling the truth; the information just kind of sounded like how good friends would act around each other. Though, it's not like he was an expert at relationships. This was pretty much the first time he's wanted to flirt with anyone, so maybe he should just take the advice from the internet.

Henry blanks as he realizes that, if the internet's advice is to be trusted, he's done these things already. He's been doing some of this stuff before he even knew he _liked_ Charles! If Henry didn't have an unconscious Charles Calvin on him, he would've swore. He'd been subconsciously flirting with Charles the whole goddamn time. So, when he was consciously trying to flirt he's terrible, but when he's doing it subconsciously he does it just fine? Henry doesn't think that's very fair. 

Huffing, Henry places his phone on the coffee table near the couch. Leaning his head back to rest on the arm of the couch, Henry glares at the ceiling. This research didn't help him that much. It just told him to do things he'd already been doing. He guesses he could try to put romantic intent into the flirting now? Maybe he could try to just touch Charles more often. Henry could stare into his eyes like a scene right out of a romcom and see if Charles took it well.

He's able to run his new free hand down his face now. Henry sighs once again, settling his hand to join the other one on the pilot's back. Briefly, he squeezes, and is rewarded with Charles tightening his arms around Henry's waist. His heart skips a beat, and a soft smile raises to the thief's face. Henry might not be that good with romance, but he'll try to learn for Charles. 

* * *

Henry is yanked from his slumber when a beam of sun hits him right in the eyes. He flinches, hard, and brings his arm up to shield his eyes. He was having a good dream for once that did not involve alternate versions of him, and of course that horrible ball of light in the sky had to ruin it. After a little bit of cussing the sun out internally, he decides to do something about his predicament. He tries to lift a blanket over his eyes, frustrated when the light just pierced it. He tugs on another blanket, hoping for some kind of change. It does absolutely nothing for him. Finally, with great anger, he decided he needed to go with his final and most dangerous plan.

He needed to move.

Letting out a loud groan, he turns to try to escape the scornful sun. Instead, all he finds is air where the couch ends. He’s not even able to get out a noise of alarm before he hits the floor. He lands in an unceremonious bundle of limbs and blankets, the thud echoing in the room. He flails for a little bit, suddenly very much awake. The adrenaline rushing through his veins did _not_ like his little fall, and decided to make itself be known. 

“You know…” a familiar voice speaks up, and Henry stills, “I think you may just have bad luck with falling, Henry.”

The realization came, with great horror, that he did _not_ wake up before Charles.

The only way out of this was to die, Henry decides. He goes limp, hoping that maybe he could avoid the conversation if he acted like he was asleep. All he needed to do was wait for Charles to go back to the other room, then he could crawl out a window or something. There would be no evidence left behind, and hopefully Charles thought it was all a dream.

There's silence for a long while, and then there's the sound of someone walking closer, "Henry?" 

Henry closes his eyes, stubbornly refusing to leave his blanket prison until he was in the clear to flee. He was going to stay committed to his choice, no matter what. He absolutely would NOT move until Charles gave up and walked away. Charles would probably go back to the kitchen, where he'd down another full pot of coffee because Charles feared no consequences. 

Something poked his blanket covered shoulder. "Heeenry."

Henry's face scrunches up. He wasn't going to be able to escape this one. A prison? He can escape that easily.. A massive complex that keeps only the most notorious criminals? He was out of there in less than a day, with a friend to boot. But a little bundle of blankets and Charles was too much for him. 

He grumbles, unhappy that he was found out. He's met with Charles chuckling, and patting Henry's shoulder. "Yeah, I know. You don't like mornings, sorry." He's able to feel Charles messing with one of blanket's layers, "Hey, are you stuck in there? Do you want me to…"

And suddenly, his makeshift blanket shield is yanked back, revealing him to the sun once again. Henry's left terribly vulnerable, the beams of light going immediately to take out his eyes. It was horrible. Even with his eyes closed he could still see nothing but red. Henry practically hisses, and he feels Charles jump back in surprise. Scrambling to pull the blanket back over his eyes, he's met with relief when Charles grabs it and throws it back over his head. 

"Whoops!" Charles sounds sheepish, "Sorry! Forgot about the whole… sun thing." Henry grumbles louder, burrowing into the makeshift blanket cave. At this, Charles pokes him in the shoulder again. "As a peace offering I could bring you some coffee?"

Ah, Charles always knew the way to his heart.

Henry hums, sticking one hand out to throw a lazy thumbs up. Charles laughs at this, a musical sound that almost convinces Henry to peek back out. Almost.

Henry hears the shifting of fabric, and then Charles is gone. There was his opportunity, just get back out of the blanket and book it for the window. Charles didn't need to know why he jumped out, all he needed to know is that he was gone. He thrashes around for a second, clawing off the blanket. He does flinch at the sun again, but he can easily move the blankets into a hood-type thing. He does so, with haste.

He only managed to straighten himself before Charles was already back in the room. The window of opportunity had, literally, closed on him. Though, maybe the drink in the pilot's hand accompanied by the pilot's smile might comfort him a little bit. Swallowing his frustration at _not_ being able to jump out the window, Henry trudges forward. He makes grabby hands at the cup, a half groan leaving him. Charles giggles, handing over the warm mug. Henry let's out a satisfied hum at the warmth, and happily takes a sip.

He pauses when Charles starts laughing harder. Henry raises one sleepy eyebrow, still sipping at his drink. Charles trails off into snickers, biting his lower lip, "You look like the weird monster from the movie last night."

The reminder of that _thing_ sends pure fury racing up his veins. Henry's hands grip the mug so hard that he's sure it'll shatter from the force. He's sure that he's never felt more betrayed in his life. Here Charles was, the one who somehow managed to gain Henry's affections, comparing him to something so vile that Henry almost turned the TV off simply to get rid of it. 

He sends the pilot a glare that could only communicate _death,_ and is not happy when this just makes Charles laugh harder. "Sorry, sorry I-" he chokes before he can even finish, breaking out into giggles.

Charles is lucky he's cute, otherwise Henry would've punched him. Or something.

Henry shuffles past the laughing pilot, intentionally shedding a blanket or two while doing so. The blankets left behind landed in messy heaps on the floor, and would have to be picked up later. Henry will let Charles do so.

The kitchen is the exact same since Henry's last seen it. Henry blinks, and realizes there was nothing left in the coffee pot. Ah, Charles had already drank some. Though, Charles already poured Henry a cup and filled it with the specific creamer he liked. He takes a sip, pleased to see that it tasted exactly how he normally makes it.. The part of him that _wasn't_ mad over being called a CGI abomination flutters happily.

Then he feels a little stab of guilt over the fact that he didn't know how Charles liked his coffee prior to yesterday. In his defense, he's never even seen Charles touch coffee! Henry had brought in his drink nearly every day, in comparison. All it would take was a keen eye to know exactly how to make it.

"Hey, I'm sorry for making fun of you! I promise you're not that ugly!" Charles yelps behind him. Henry snorts, rubbing at his face. Between you and Henry, he's secretly amused by the situation. He turns on his heel, raising an eyebrow. The blankets he was still clinging to drag across the floor, piling up at his feet. Charles at least manages to hold back another giggle at the image, but Henry can see the urge to laugh in the curl of his lips.

Henry hums in mock disbelief, raising his other brow. "You think I'm not ugly?" He asks slyly, his voice still rough from sleep.

"You look decent," Charles returns, elbowing him in the side.

Not quite all the hurt on Henry's face is fake. He raises one of his hands to press against his chest, "Ow."

"I'm joking, I'm joking!" The smile on the pilot's face is soft as he admits, "You look nice!"

Henry hums, a pleasant warmth settling in his chest, "That's better." He takes a sip of his drink then, shifting so Charles could step over the blanket pile. 

Charles goes to grab something from the cabinets, mumbling all the while. He sounds like he's brainstorming about what to make for breakfast, but wasn't quite sure what he was willing to make. Henry can see the pilot's brows furrow as the pilot goes searching deeper in his kitchen. After a little bit of ransacking the cabinets, the pilot's face lights up. Charles hums his pleased tune as he pulls something out. It's a box of… something. He can't currently make it out. 

Charles suddenly jerks, mouth forming an "oh." He sets the box to the side, further obscuring it from Henry's view. "Ah, wait a minute. I forgot to ask," 

Henry feels embarrassment slap him right in the face. Of course, here it was. Here was the questioning about the cuddling. Now Henry would have to slap together some random excuse that would get him out of the situation. He mentally prepared himself, ready for the worst.

Charles turns to him, looking him over, "how's your injury feeling?"

Henry blanks, staring at the pilot in confusion. That… was not the question he was expecting. He'll take it though, this is much preferred to the cuddling stuff.

"Do you mean the leg or the head?"

Charles jumps, as if he'd forgotten. "Oh, your head! I guess that too. Just," Charles points at him, "how are you? In general."

Henry shrugs half heartedly at the question. His head still kind of throbbed every few seconds, but it was nothing some ice couldn't fix. And for his leg... in truth, he completely forgot he even had an injury there in the first place. He's been through enough pain that a little nick on his leg feels like nothing. "Fine. Leg feels fine," he admits.

Charles squints at this, concern and disbelief painting his features. There it was, the pilot's trademarked worry. The pilot takes a step forward, "Could I look at it to make sure? We'll probably need to change the bandages."

Henry grumbles, tugging the blankets tighter to himself. "Comfy." He grunts, absolutely not willing to leave his little blanket hood.

"Yeah looks like it," Charles agrees, "but good thing I don't need you to get out of there, just need the leg!"

"What, you gonna cut it off?"

"Yes!"

Henry stares at the pilot for a long time, not sure if he was joking or not. When he sees nothing but humor in the pilot's eyes (and what else was he expecting? Charles wasn't mean spirited.) he threw his head back. "Fine," he groans, and immediately goes to trudge back to the couch. He leaves his coffee on the counter, hoping to come back to it soon.

"Oh!" Charles wasn't expecting Henry to give up so easily, the former thief can hear it in his voice. Charles quickly catches up though, pleased nonetheless.

Henry dramatically flops down onto the couch, satisfied when it draws a chuckle out of Charles. The former thief shifts around, bringing the blanket so it's completely around him. He must look like the world's angriest burrito.

"I'll get the stuff, you wait here!"

Charles quickly runs off, heading to his room. Why he would keep his medical supplies in his _room_ of all places confused Henry, but he decides not to ask. Besides, it takes less than a minute for Charles to get back. He proudly held the med kit in his hand. 

"Okay," Charles smiles, "now I'll just need your leg-" Henry kicks his injured leg out of the blanket burrito, almost hitting Charles in the process. Charles doesn't seem to mind. "... Thanks!" 

In a few quick motions, Charles already had the sleeve of his pants rolled up to reveal the wound. The bandages had a small, pink spot in the center. So Henry had been bleeding a little then. He didn't even notice. 

Charles tilts his head, glaring at the pink spot unhappily. "A little bit of blood," the pilot pats it hesitantly, like one would try to pet a wild animal. It nearly makes Henry smile. "Please don't be bleeding any more."

Henry grins, "I'll try,"

"Oh!" Charles looks up, surprised, "sorry, I wasn't talking to you."

"What?"

"Wasn't talking to you, talking to this guy," Charles proceeds to gesture to the wound.

Henry stares, not quite sure what to say, "Oh."

Charles does not seem to mind his confusion, because he's quickly unwrapping the bandage. The wound already looks a little healed over, and it is no longer bleeding. Charles lights up at this, and Henry can hear Charles humming his happy tune. 

"It looks fine! No infection… I think." The pilot smiles at this, reaching over to rummage around in the med kit. “In the meantime,” Charles catches his eye briefly, “what'cha wanna talk about?”

Henry’s mind immediately delves off into non-platonic subjects. He could talk about how the pilot's eyes were brighter than the sun, and sparkled more than the stars. He could talk about how when Charles rambles on and on, Henry feels like he could listen to it all day. He could talk about how when Charles touches him Henry can feel it for hours afterwards? Or maybe, just maybe, he could talk about how he wanted to kiss the man silly? How Henry wanted to hold him, and love him, and _know_ him? 

Or how Henry would _love_ to take him on a date sometime?

_Oh wait, he could do that last one._

Well, maybe not go all out and describe all the dates he’s thought out in vivid detail, but he could ask him out on a date! Henry was free pretty much all the time, so he could easily adjust to when Charles was open! Henry knew the pilot's favorite food place. While it wasn’t very romantic, it could be a great start to dating! At least, he hoped it was.

Now, he _could_ ask Charles out on a date, but _should_ he? What, he’s officially flirted maybe twice? One ended with him almost getting a concussion, and the other was too subtle to be taken as flirting.

Eh, fuck it. He was Henry Stickmin, when was the last time he thought something through? He got this far by doing some of the stupidest things that came to mind, why couldn't he do it again? He knows that sometimes people want a little bit more before they go on their first date. But then again, Charles and Henry have known each other for a good while. While other people usually start dating after a quick meet up and mutual attraction, Charles and Henry had _history._ And besides, according to his research last night, Henry's basically been flirting with Charles for a good while and Charles doesn't seem to mind it. What’s the worst that could happen? 

"Hey-" his voice is terribly croaky, and he coughs to clear it. Henry rubs at his throat, trying again but softer, "hey, do you think… you'd be free later? Or tomorrow?"

Charles pauses in unwrapping the roll of bandages, “Uh… I think I’d be free… both times? Why,” the pilot’s eyes glitter, “you gonna drag me into a heist or something?”

“Or something,” Henry laughs, but anxiety makes it sound strained. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he starts picking at the blankets around his shoulders. Oh god, of _course_ he’s blushing and twiddling his thumbs like a teenager. _Come on, it’s just Charles! He’s not going to bite your head off!_

Charles must seem to notice his nervousness, because the pilot suddenly frowns at him. “You aren’t doing something dangerous, are you?”

Well, this could potentially be dangerous to Henry’s feelings, if that counted. Henry snorts, shaking his head. “No, I-” at that very moment, a fierce wave of anxiety rolls over him. His voice decides to die in his throat. His sentence ends with a garbled noise.

Now would be a pretty good time to fling himself out the window, Henry thinks.

“Okay,” Charles was definitely concerned now. Henry was stupid to hope that maybe Charles _\- one of his closest friends, and the person he was in love with -_ wouldn’t notice Henry’s sudden apprehension, “are you alright? What’s wrong?”

Henry turns to signing instead. His fingers are trembling, “I’m okay, I promise.”

“What, does your injury hurt now or something? You feel sick?” Charles looks over the wound again, anxious, “I didn’t see any signs of infection, but maybe I’m wrong? You feel pretty warm, you could have like a fever or something?” Henry jumps when the pilot's palm unceremoniously slaps against his forehead. That probably isn’t good, since he was super embarrassed that he couldn’t just _get it out._ Charles cringes away as if he’s been burnt, “Oh no, oh no! That’s a fever! Yup, that’s a… how did you even get an infection, I cleaned out the wound! Oh no, this is all going wrong-”

Henry’s getting impatient; he’s upset with himself for just sputtering and making Charles worry. Before the pilot could further spiral into panic, Henry launches himself out of the blanket cave and grips his arms. That doesn’t work for long before Henry realizes he needs his hands to sign. As quickly as he had grabbed the pilot's arms, he yanked his hands back. His motions are rushed, “I’m fine! I’m fine, just got embarrassed. Couldn’t get the words out.”

“Huh?” Charles stares at him for a long time, before his eyes soften, “Henry, you know I wouldn’t make fun of you-”

“I know!” Henry somehow turned what was supposed to be a romantic moment into one filled with miscommunication. The part of him that had kind of expected something like this huffs. “You’re the nicest person I know! I know you wouldn’t!”

“Then why would you get embarrassed?”

Gee, he doesn't know Charles, maybe because he was asking you on a date? Frustration rises in Henry’s gut, causing him to rub at his face. After a moment of recollecting himself, and recognizing how out of control the situation got, he sighed. Slowly, Henry carefully signed out, “I want to go somewhere nice with you. Maybe to your favorite restaurant? When would you be free?”

“Oh!” Charles smiles, pleasantly surprised, “could’ve just said that! Yeah, I’m down with tomorrow then!”

Henry’s heart leaps to his throat, and then he’s beaming at the pilot. Yes, that went well! It was a little rocky in the beginning, but Charles said yes in the end! Confidence hits him straight in the chest, making his anxiety melt away. “You pick me up, or should I pick you up?” he manages to ask, his voice flowing with joy.

“I can pick you up! Less traffic in a helicopter.”

Henry nods, satisfied at the answer. His chest quickly warms then, his face hurts from how much he was smiling. He got a date with Charles. _He got a date with Charles!_ The mission was a go, and the plan was in action! He was going to woo this pilot so hard he won’t even know what’s coming!

“Hey uh,” he’s snapped back to reality by the pilot's hesitant voice, “we still have to redress your leg.”

“Oh,” Henry supposes that’s true, but honestly he could care less. He was on top of the world, he could do anything!

He sits back down though, pulling some of the blankets back onto his shoulders. “Work away then,” he says, mind entirely in the clouds.

Henry may be terrible at flirting, but hey, he got a date with Charles! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here have another chapter of almost pure fluff!
> 
> This chapter was started on August 26th, and finished September 2nd.


	3. Pining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So gifting, so friendly,” Henry’s smile widened.
> 
> “No!” The pilot furiously rubbed at his face, which was turning red, “Stop it, you’re embarrassing me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a pinch of angst, not a lot. Mostly related to pining.  
> also note: I did an OBSCENE amount of research for this part of the fic. I now kind of know how to fly a helicopter. That shit's wild man

To say Charles was in trouble would be underselling the situation. To say he was truly, and utterly doomed? Well… that would be more accurate.

You see, a long time ago, Charles was just a pilot. He was one of the most experienced veterans in the ranks, but he was still just a pilot. He had a mighty knack for doing dangerous stunts, and the luck to get out of them alive. But his passengers often didn't like these parts of the ride. 

He understood that, he really did! But when it was the only thing people commented on about you, it got old real quick. Maybe it was a little impulsive, but it worked right? Perhaps someone could have gone flying out, but they didn't so what's the big fuss? They acted like he wasn't a fully trained pilot who knew what he was doing! He wasn't a rookie, he often drove Captain (now General) Galeforce himself to and from missions! 

So sue him, when people talked about his stunts, but in a positive light, he got really happy! Complements in general always got him flustered (he didn't get many since he was always _expected_ to do good) but compliments about his… unique flying style always made butterflies fly in his belly.

This is what doomed him from the start.

So, a long time ago Charles was just a pilot. He just flew a helicopter for the government, and he was great at what he did. 

But then, one day, Captain Galeforce called him in. "Charlie," the Captain had said, and Charles already knew it was serious, "Today, you will be going on possibly the most important mission in your life."

Charles had blinked, confused, "My most important mission ever? What's going on?"

The Captain didn't elaborate, shaking his head, "You know the rules, I'll tell you right before you fly out." Captain Galeforce had proceeded to give him a folded paper, "However, I can tell you that when you land, we'll be bringing in someone." The Captain's face suddenly turned grim, "If he struggles, I'd like to request that you use non-lethal force if possible."

"Ominous," Charles had hummed, unwrapping the paper to see a bunch of coordinates, "but alright."

"It'll be fine, what will be dangerous is the last bit of the mission." The Captain paused, giving him a firm look, "Keep your helmet nearby." Part of him had wanted to groan at the mention of that helmet. It was horribly stuffy, and it was nowhere as comforting as his headset. An order was an order though, so he'll have to bring the helmet with him. He wonders if the Captain would be mad if the helmet 'slipped' out of his hands and out the window.

"But I know you're more than capable, and if he plays along it'll be smooth sailing," there was that 'he' again. Charles could guess that the person the Captain was bringing in probably didn't volunteer for the mission. But it sounded like he was special, and was possibly even required for the mission to be successful. Charles just hoped that the person would be willing to work with them, even if he didn't volunteer.

A few minutes before take off, he had been informed of just what was going on. They were going to raid a Toppat airship, and they were recruiting someone… unique to do so. A well known criminal, who was responsible for stealing the Tunisian Diamond. The Captain had claimed that if anyone would be able to get in and out, it would have been him.

The criminal had lived up to his name, stealing the exact files they needed to make an arrest. He hadn't struggled at all, and even accepted the offered earpiece to communicate with Charles during the mission. In the pilot's opinion, they worked really well together! 

It was at the end of the mission that the thief did something that Charles didn't expect. He had pressed the secret button on the side of the gifted headpiece and gained the force gun. Without even hesitating, the thief had shot out the two Toppats blocking the way. Charles was able to see the door open behind the thief, and felt a shot of cold hit him. 

The Toppat Leader's Right Hand Man was someone well known. He was specialized in fighting in a large array of weapons. Guns, swords, fists, if you could name it the Right Hand Man could use it. He was the one the government was the most concerned about while going in. Right Hand Man was dangerous, and even the Captain knew it. 

That was why they sent in the most likely person to survive they possibly could. Henry Stickmin was known for his freakish amount of luck. He acted as if the universe itself would give him a little leeway every now and again, and people were stunned to see that the universe did just that.

So when the door opened and Henry immediately broke into a sprint towards the helicopter, Charles was forced to trust that the man knew what he was doing. The hint was obvious enough; Henry was going to jump from the ship into the helicopter. Charles didn't hesitate to turn the helicopter so Henry would have more of a chance. 

What Charles didn't expect was for Henry to use the force gun again, only to send himself flying through the air. Henry had hit the other side of the helicopter with a thud, and Charles quickly retreated. Pulling back on the controls was the easiest thing he'd ever done. With one quick swoop, they were out of range of any missiles or weapons. After a quick message to the Captain, who was in the back, Charles had allowed himself to whoop in victory. That was perhaps the smoothest mission he’s ever had! Usually Charles would be forced to escape while being barraged with bullets. But with Henry on their side, they were in and out within the hour! 

Henry was good at what he did, extremely so. Charles already respected him immensely! Someone who was able to get into a giant criminal airship and stay largely undetected until their exit was someone to be respected! It was awe inspiring, If not a little terrifying to think about how well they could work against you. 

But Charles also didn’t expect Henry to stumble into the cockpit, holding the files with a proud smile. Charles admittedly jumped a little, but it wasn’t enough to make the helicopter sway. 

“You know,” Charles had begun, turning to look at the thief. He still had the earpiece from the mission in, so Henry could hear him over the roaring engine. “there’s some seats for you to sit down back there! You don’t have to stand. If we get any turbulence you’ll go flying!”

Charles could tell Henry had never been in a helicopter before. He kept on taking steps as if he wasn’t sure of himself. It was as if Henry had expected the helicopter to drop at any moment. Perhaps he didn’t realize just how good at flying Charles was yet; the pilot would never let them crash! At least, not willingly. But Henry had waved his hand, as if to say he was fine. Everyone usually said that the first time on a helicopter. Charles could happily say they were always wrong. One little shake, and they had gone tumbling to the ground. It was actually pretty funny to watch someone so smug about their balance go crashing.

Maybe it was a want to prove him wrong, or perhaps it could have been an urge to show off, but Charles found himself slowly reaching for the side of his headset. He pressed a button, and murmured a low, “Captain, fasten your seatbelt.”

He had heard the Captain grumble on the other side of the line, “Goddamnit Charlie.” There had been the sound of a buckle clasping soon after. 

Charles then had turned to his passenger, pointing to the seat to his left. He smiled, putting on fake innocence, “Buckle up, we’re gonna get a little wild in here!” After a moment of thinking, he added, “Don’t touch any of the levers, or else this’ll get messy real quick.” Henry had made a face at that, probably wanting an explanation. Charles decided to allow him one, “Both of the seats have controls, one wrong push and we could go crashing into the desert. As fun as a survival mission would be, I think the Captain wouldn’t be happy with me!”

After waiting for Henry to begrudgingly climb into the seat, Charles had gripped the controls. They were familiar to him, and holding them always felt pleasant. In his right hand he held the Cyclic, a joystick-like lever that came up from beneath his seat to rest in front of him. It could move in all four directions! In his left he held the Collective, a lever that was close to the left side of the seat and could only be moved upwards and downwards.

It had been a long while since he did something a little bit exciting. His face had hurt from grinning, this was going to be fun! Holding the Cyclic in a firm hand, he had pushed the lever forward. He felt a rush of adrenaline when the helicopter dipped forward to increase speed. He then reached for the Collective Pitch. With one smooth push, the helicopter was quickly dropping. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Henry suddenly flail to grab at the seats. Charles did not lift the lever back up, having the Helicopter continue to push downward. It got to the point where they could see the ground from the window. It was rapidly approaching, and Charles had been pleased that he could feel the drag against the copter.

He had to pull the Cyclic and Collective levers back up now. He pulled both hands backwards. It was a quick motion, and the copter practically roared at the sudden change of plans. They stopped just before they hit the ground, sand flying in every direction. If Charles listened close enough he could hear the tapping of the grains against the glass. He couldn’t help the cackle that left him. A drop always made his heart race the way he liked! 

Suddenly, Charles got an idea. A probably stupid, and dangerous idea, but an idea. Besides, he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to impress Henry. They just got done raiding a Toppat base, how dangerous could this really be? Charles smiled, throwing a thumbs up, “That’s not it!” With a push, the helicopter went speeding across the sand. He had to pull the Collective back up to gain altitude. This trick could potentially go wrong, and he wanted as much air as possible to try and correct it. 

He was able to get a quick glance at Henry’s face, and Charles was delighted at what he saw. Henry was holding onto the seat for dear life, but his face betrayed his excitement. His eyes were practically sparkling. Henry’s smile was so wide it stretched from ear to ear. He looked like the epitome of an adrenaline junkie. So Henry was having just as much fun as he was, how cool! And if this went well, Henry was about to be really pleased.

Charles held the Cyclic in his right hand, and pushed it to the right. The helicopter had tilted to the side then, continuing until eventually the helicopter was upside down. His stomach flipped, jumping to his throat. Unfortunately, Charles couldn’t stay like this for more than a split second. This probably was already wrecking the copter’s blades. The copter finished its roll quickly, sending Charles fumbling for the controls when it had wobbled. A quick correction, and the helicopter was once again flying straight.

Oh yeah, the rotors were near busted. He could hear little creaks and groans. Whoops. Good thing they weren’t _that_ far from a government outpost. One quick landing, and they could get a new copter. It was worth it. 

Henry was none the wiser to the potential wreckage. In fact, the thief seemed exhilarated. Laughter spilled from Henry’s lips, and Charles couldn’t help but join in. Despite almost ruining their ride, that was perhaps one of the best rolls he’s ever done! He’s proud of himself for being able to finish one without crashing, and even prouder he got his passenger to laugh. 

A buzz in his ear cut him off, and Charles winced. Uh oh, he already knew what that was going to be. He tapped the receiver button meekly, letting out a small, “Hey-”

“Charles.” Came the Captain's unamused reply. He almost winced again, that tone never meant good for him.

“So-”

“ _Charles_ ,” Captain Galeforce interrupted him, “did you just…”

“Yeah.”

“A roll.” He could practically imagine the Captain rubbing his temple, “How close are we to the base?”

“Not even a mile out sir,” Charles reported.

The Captain let out a suffering sigh. This was not the pilot's first stunt like this, and the Captain was well aware of this. He wouldn’t have allowed Charles to fly him to places if he wasn’t willing to put up with some stunts every now and again. That’s why they had tried to make him a custom helicopter that would be able to handle rolls and upside-down flight. They haven’t quite nailed it yet, but Charles was happy to test every copter that came his way. Unfortunately, it wasn’t cheap to get the helicopter repaired, so he tried to use the helicopter for as long as possible. In all the excitement, he had forgotten that fact. Oh well, at least this time the blades didn’t invert and send him sinking like a stone. That wasn’t fun last time, some other helicopter had to catch him with a giant claw machine. 

Captain Galeforce spoke up again, “You’ll get out of this one for now, Calvin, but the techs will not be pleased.” 

Oh, the techs will _kill_ him. He’s not looking forward to explaining that he almost wrecked the copter because he wanted to do a stunt. Oh well, it was worth it in the end. “Of course sir,” he mumbles, shutting off the communication line. 

A tap on his shoulder catches the pilot's attention, and he turns his head. Henry was looking at him, tilting his head in a question. Unfortunately, Charles didn’t understand what Henry tried to say with his hands yet, so this led them to communicate the best they could. Henry pointed at the headset, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Oh,” he was probably asking what that was about, “the Captain didn’t like the tricks that much.”

Henry snickered at that, giving him a look that could only read as, “Really?”

“Yeah, turns out flipping a helicopter isn’t such a good idea!”

Henry hummed at that. Then, he had paused, thinking. The thief placed the files (Charles had forgotten about those, he was glad they didn’t go flying) into his lap. Then he made a gesture as if he was… writing? The thief pointed at his hand that was making the writing gesture, and then gave Charles a look.

Was he asking for something to write with? “A pen?” Charles guesses, happy at Henry’s affirming nod. Charles hums, looking around the cockpit. “I… might have one behind my chair? I’m not sure. When was the last time I brought a pen into here, again?”

Henry doesn’t wait for his answer, already unbuckling. For a second Charles tries to shuffle to watch him go. He quickly realizes this isn’t a good idea when he almost accidentally pushes the Collective Lever. Considering Henry is out of his seat, having the helicopter suddenly drop wouldn’t be a good thing. Charles moves so he’s facing forward again, only pouting a little.

He can hear Henry going through his stuff behind his chair, and he realizes he just let a thief go through his items. His brows furrow, and he almost tries to look over his shoulder again. Before he can, Henry jumps back into the cockpit. He holds a pen in victory, quickly going back to his seat. Henry flops down rather dramatically, just narrowly missing kicking the Cyclic Lever in front of the seat. Henry grabs the files he left behind, and for a second Charles can only stare in confusion.

He’s alarmed when Henry flips to a random page in the files. “Hey wait a second-” Charles stares, open mouthed, as Henry writes on the _very_ important files that they needed to put the Toppat leaders away for good! “The files,” he cries, hands fumbling on the controls. Henry looks at him, waving another hand and writing quicker. Was he trying to ruin the files or something? They needed those! 

Before Charles can get out of his seat to try to take the files, Henry throws the open files over. They land crookedly, showing pictures of a raid the Toppats must have been on. _That’s good evidence,_ his mind murmurs. His eyes then catch on the scratchy writing on the corner of the page. It’s pretty small, so Charles has to lean forward to read it correctly.

“That was cool. You’re a good pilot,” reads the words, and Charles can do nothing but blink. The writing’s pretty straight forward, and he can read it. He isn’t quite sure why his brain isn’t… processing it. He gets it eventually, it’s a complement. About his dumb stunts.

In the back of his head, a voice clearly hisses, “ _uh oh._ ”

Warmth hits him then, sending a little flurry of butterflies in his stomach. _“Oh no,”_ the voice repeats in distress. Part of him knows _exactly_ where this is going, and tries desperately to escape it. Henry was just being nice! He was just being polite, or kind! Charles went out of his way to do a trick for him after all! His hands move without his permission, closing the files quickly. _Maybe if he stopped looking at it, the feeling will go away._

Charles has to turn to give the files back, and all it takes is Henry looking at him. His face suddenly feels like it’s on fire. His palms abruptly get sweaty, and he practically throws the files back. Henry catches them, because of course he does, but he also gives Charles a look. 

Charles fumbles, and a shaky laugh escapes him. One of his hands reached to scratch at the back of his neck, “Oh, thank you!” Charles is sure he must look like an idiot right now, but he can’t get his mouth to stop, “I’ve trained as a pilot for years! It just takes a lot of practice. Well, maybe not just practice. I’m pretty young and I’m a bit better than some older pilots but that’s fine!” He blinks, and then he rubs at his face, “I don’t mean that in a bragging way or anything! I was just-”

Henry giggles at his fumbling, and his heart practically flips. 

The unhappy part of him screams out, ” _FUCK._ ”

The Captain had said this would be one of the most important missions he'd ever go on. He had probably been talking about a promotion in ranks, or even a boost in reputation. But in reality, it wasn't the most important mission of his life because of all those things. 

It was because he had met one of his closest friends, and formed the worst crush on someone he's ever had. It didn't help that this crush was on one of the most wanted criminals in the country. But of course, his mind wouldn't listen to reason. Though it's not like this is out of the ordinary. He crashed helicopters all the time because he just wanted to. And now, he had a big fat crush on a big time criminal. Why? Because Henry was nice looking and complimented him _once._

Which was… fine! It was totally fine, because he could get over it eventually! It was just a little crush after all, all he had to do was get interested in someone else!

_That was easier said than done,_ Charles realizes while handing over a radio to Henry with restricted government channels. _But it was fine, he had this!_ He says this to himself while learning sign language, just for Henry. But he was doing better, he swears he was almost over it! 

And then Henry had rang him up, asking if Charles could swing by and pick him up. Charles had agreed without a moment of hesitation, though he had to go to the General for the approval. He then proceeded to fly out in freezing cold weather just so he could pick Henry up. He’s surprised to see Henry had someone there with him. She introduces herself as Ellie, and Charles feels nothing but good things from her. His suspicion is confirmed when the preceding mission they go on is nothing but smooth. Afterwards, Ellie offers both of their help with any missions in the future. 

Charles is both overjoyed and nervous when instead of coming over for only missions, they come over to just visit. 

He’s sure the crush is almost gone, but then Charles ends up buying a whole coffee machine just because he learns that Henry likes to drink coffee in the morning. Henry now comes over to visit often, usually later in the day. But whenever he comes over early (usually for a mission) Charles always offers the coffee pot to him. He then learns that Henry’s taste in coffee... is very particular. So _maybe_ he went hunting in every store he possibly could to find the creamers Henry liked. That was just something good buddies would do! Henry doesn’t seem to think it’s weird, so it isn’t! 

It was no big deal, really!

Besides, just because _he_ liked Henry did not mean Henry felt the same. That was the core reason he hasn’t just… snapped and blurted it out or something. Perhaps he was impulsive, but impulse was nothing compared to the crushing fear of rejection. It was alright that nothing was happening between them, because Charles valued Henry’s company, and Henry as a person more! He’d be heartbroken if Henry got weirded out by it and tried to distance them. Which is exactly why he didn’t feel like risking it! For possibly the first time ever, Charles was not willing to risk his neck because he wanted something.

He was actually pretty in control of his feelings! After all, he hasn’t really done anything to act on them yet. So what he was a little more concerned about Henry’s injuries than someone normally was? Henry was his best friend, of course Charles would be concerned! And what if he went in for little shoulder bumps and hugs more often? He was that physically affectionate with all his friends! 

Unfortunately, having a massive crush on someone also meant you were hyper aware of their moods. As soon as something was out of their ordinary schedule, it felt like a slap in the face. At least, that’s what Charles felt. Henry’s attitude didn’t shift during the mission, no, it was when Charles returned to the helicopter while Henry and Ellie were talking. It was the twist in his gut when Henry practically leapt away from Charles as if he’d been burnt. It was the concern over the fact that Henry’s voice suddenly dropped into a drawl, and the fact that Henry immediately fell over afterwards. 

It was… how suddenly Henry was both too nervous and confident around him. It didn’t make sense in the pilot's head, but Henry was his best friend. Charles knew that if something was wrong, Henry would tell him.

(Part of him was terrified that Henry had found out, and this was his way of dancing around it. He told that part of him to go back where it had come from. Charles was _not_ going to allow himself to spiral over something that might not even be true.)

* * *

Charles was in control of his feelings! At least, he was in the waking world. 

When he woke up on his couch, his sleep slowed mind was confused over why everything was so warm. It felt like being surrounded by a blanket that gave off heat. Charles snuggled deeper into his warm pillow, not expecting something to tighten around him. He had raised his head groggily, and almost jumped when the side of his headphones bumped into something soft. The soft thing groaned, and shifted away from him. 

Charles had suddenly felt more awake than he had in years. He was painfully aware that the warm pillow he was lying on wasn’t actually a pillow. He was actually, for real, snuggling with Henry. Charles had somehow managed to get himself tangled in his sleep. The place his head was lying moments before was actually Henry’s _neck._ It had taken everything in him to not burst into flustered hysterical screaming right there on the couch. Instead, he probably just went as red as a tomato and turned into the world’s tensest human being ever.

A little, strangled noise left him. Henry, who was luckily still asleep, did not seem to appreciate the noise. The thief groaned once again, shifting to perhaps try to bury his head into a pillow. At that exact moment the arms around him loosened. Taking the opportunity to escape that _dangerous_ situation as soon as possible, he practically flung his body to the side. He ended up rolling straight off the couch, and landing on the ground with a heavy thud. 

Charles stiffened, anxiously listening to see if he had accidentally woke up the thief. There was the sound of fabric shifting, and Henry popped up from the blanket hoard. He blinked owlishly at the pilot, and Charles could do nothing but stare back. 

Henry squinted at him, tired and confused, “Why are you on the floor?”

“I fell.”

“Why’d you fall?”

“Gravity,” Charles returned dumbly.

“Oh,” Henry laid back down, turning so he was no longer facing Charles, “alright.”

Charles sat there on the floor for a long moment, still not sure if it was safe to move or not. After a while of just sitting there and holding his breath, Charles shakily got to his feet. He almost fell, but caught himself before he could. He was… pretty sure Henry was back asleep at this point. He shuffled slowly, just to make sure. When Henry continued being as dead as a door nail, Charles broke into a sprint towards the kitchen. 

He practically tripped towards the sink, pulling his headphones down so they would hang around his neck, and threw some cold water on his face. The water was freezing, and certainly helped with his “oh my god my face is on fire” problem. Charles wheezed, clutching the side of the sink for dear life. He was not going to forget how it felt to wake up cuddling Henry anytime soon. Oh no, the feeling will probably haunt him to his dying days. And worst of all, he’s going to be craving that feeling for ages, won’t he?

Charles hid his face in his hands, letting out a little whine. He was beyond doomed. This crush wasn’t going away any time soon. But it was fine, he told himself, Henry never needed to know. He’d just have to watch where he fell asleep from now on. Charles was lucky Henry was practically knocked out, otherwise that would’ve been an awkward conversation to have. 

Either way, he sat there with only his thoughts. It took almost a whole hour for him to recover enough that he could do anything but sit there on the corner. _Everything was fine,_ he repeated to himself in his head, _just a little cuddling. Not a big thing. It was an accident anyway._

Before he even knew what he was doing, he was brewing a singular cup of coffee up. Grabbing the three mystic creamers that Henry loved, he quickly put together a mug of Henry’s coffee. He stared at it, half in a daze. Charles guessed Henry will be up soon, and making the drink had let him do stuff with his hands. It had calmed him, grounded him. 

The cuddling thing was thrown to the back of his mind, and he was almost relieved.

But then Henry had asked him on a date.

Except, it wasn’t really a date! At least, it probably wasn’t a date to Henry. If it had been anyone else, Charles maybe would have seen it was a date, but it was Henry! The only thing Charles ever saw the former thief flirt with was death! So to Henry, it probably was just asking his best friend to go out and grab something to eat to hang out! But to Charles, it sounded awfully close to a date. Going to the pilot's favorite restaurant, having one of them “pick up” the other, even asking if Charles would be free to go! It was practically taunting him. A harsh reminder of his crush, even giving him a taste of what could be, and taking it back within seconds. 

But what was he supposed to do, say no? Of course not! Even if it was almost painful for the pilot to go on an almost date, he wouldn’t miss spending time with Henry for the world! So he had said yes, agreeing to pick up Henry in his helicopter (he might have done that to impress Henry, but nobody needed to know that) and scheduled the not-date for tomorrow. He had smiled and let Henry out of his place, acting as cool and collected as he possibly could. 

That gave him a whole day to mentally prepare for dinner under candlelight with his not mutual crush. He began this day face down on his bed, wanting to scream his heart out. Charles was not going to survive, but unfortunately he was going to have to try. The General would not be pleased if he died, let alone during a date-but-not-quite-date. He sighs, rubbing the red from his face, and reaches for his phone.

Charles is completely silent while it rings, staring at his ceiling. He’s pleased when the line clicks, and out comes the General’s voice, “Charlie?”

“Hi,” he’s proud that his voice doesn’t waver, “could I have tomorrow off?”

“Right to the point there, son,” The General sighs then, and Charles can hear the sound of computer keys clicking, “the whole day?”

“If it’s possible, I know I’m pretty valuable.”

“Eh, you’re only really brought in for big missions anyway.” There’s one last click, and then the General speaks up, “You’re free for another day, but you may need to take extra practices to make up for it.” Perfect!

“Alright, thanks!”

“Anything else you need?” The General always asked this before hanging up, and Charles was never sure why. 

“I mean…” Charles trails off, grinning, “I wouldn’t mind having a pardon to crash a copter-”

“No.”

“Aw,” He sighs, but he was expecting that response. “thought I’d ask.”

“Do you need something that I’d actually be able to allow?” The General asks, voice flat.

“Nah,” Charles doesn’t think asking the General to set him and Henry up on lots of missions together would be appropriate to ask. Unless-

“Alright, have a good time off Charlie,” Before he can speak up, the line goes dead. Charles can only stare at his phone in disappointment. Oh well, maybe next time. At least he has the whole day to go on that not-date with Henry tomorrow. 

Charles stares at the ceiling for a second, and blinks hard. His brows furrow. Did Henry say when Charles should pick him up? Did he already forget or something? He groans, glaring at his phone as if it would tell him the answer.

His eyes land on Henry's contact. It simply reads Henry's name. He had wanted to put a heart after it, but was too afraid of someone seeing and telling someone. Then he realizes that _oh, maybe his phone could tell him after all._ He clicks on the messenger and quickly sends a, "Hey, when should I pick you up tomorrow?"

Charles taps at the phone in the few minutes it takes Henry to respond. "Anytime you want, lol" He stares at the message. That does not help him in any way.

He huffs, "6am good?"

"EW," Charles holds back a snicker at the fast reply, "You're evil. Fine, 5 in the afternoon." That was better!

"Alrighty! Stay safe!" He shuts his phone down and tosses it somewhere. Okay, he has the rest of today and then until five tomorrow to prepare. He rubs at his face in an attempt to ground himself. At least he has whatever he needs to do today to distract himself. He just needs to… relax. It won't be bad, it's just a hang out. With him and Henry, over dinner. 

Charles groans. This was not going to be easy. But he'll get through it, he always does.

* * *

Charles landed in Henry’s lawn as soon as the clock struck five. The house was a quaint thing, and showed evidence of previous wear. But even though it looked sort of worn down, Charles could see the effort put into place to keep the house nice looking. It looked lived in the way that one would expect from an old family house. It was moderately sized, with a good bit of backyard. The pilot was lucky he had just the right amount of space to settle down in the yard, otherwise he might have had to land somewhere else and have Henry walk to him.

Henry was sitting on his porch, idly tapping at something on his phone. The thief wasn't wearing anything special really, the only difference being his clothes seemed less wrinkled than normal. That simple detail both soothed and agitated his mind. _See, he's wearing casual clothes,_ he thought to himself, _it's not a date._ The nice looking button up he put on _just in case_ felt heavy under his flight suit.

He made sure to wait for the helicopter to completely shut off before exiting. When Charles stepped out of the helicopter, waving, Henry looked up. Their eyes caught, and Henry smiled. For a second, the pilot's heart skipped. Just seeing the former thief smile sent butterflies flying in his belly, and made him want to grin back. Frankly, it was unfair how flustered Henry made him feel.

Charles shook the thoughts away, offering Henry a small smile, "I'm here!"

Henry rose from his seat, signing a quick, "I see that." 

Charles opened the door to the helicopter a little wider, stepping to the side to let Henry pass. He bumped the former thief’s shoulder, giggling when he got a shove in return. After Henry was in fact safely inside, Charles slid the door closed. He called behind him, “You all set? Got your stuff?”

Charles turned at Henry’s soft, “Mhm,” Henry quickly patted himself down, pulling a variety of things out of god knows where. Henry made sure to never put his most valuable materials in his visible pockets in the hope of being able to secretly keep the materials. This has led to a lot of times where Henry was able to free himself from sticky situations. Honestly, it was very clever of the former thief to do! Though for a man so clever, Henry could be pretty foolish. But that was alright, Charles was fond of those silly moments. 

Of course, Henry first pulled a knife from a pocket somewhere deep in his hoodie. Why would he ever go anywhere without a knife? Then, a few lockpicks out of places Charles couldn’t see. Charles had found that even if Henry seemed to have nothing on him, he always somehow had a lockpick somewhere. He also pulled out a piece of paper that had scribbles on it, which Charles decided not to ask about. Finally, Henry pulled out his keys, holding them proudly. Charles almost burst into laughter right then and there; he took everything out of his pockets to show off his keys?

“You could have just said yes,” the pilot's face hurt from how hard he was smiling. 

Henry raises an eyebrow at Charles, shaking the keys so they jingle, “Got yours?” He mouths silently.

Charles rolls his eyes, forget your keys a _few_ times and suddenly you’re never trusted with keys again! Well, maybe it was a _little_ more than a few times, but still! “I do, in fact have my keys,”

Henry’s busy shoving all of his stuff back to their places, so he can’t sign. Instead, he raises his other eyebrow, mouth stretching further into a smile. “Really?” His expression said. 

Charles can’t help but snicker, hands flying to his pocket to reveal that _yes, this time he has his keys._ Henry nods then, putting the knife back into his hoodie. Charles watches the knife intently to make sure Henry doesn’t accidentally stab himself. But within seconds, the knife is gone without a trace, and Henry doesn’t even have a nick. Charles nods, satisfied at the lack of blood, and goes to walk to the cockpit.

“We’ll be landing in the grass near the restaurant,” he calls over his shoulder to his passenger. “The owner there knows me since I come by so often, but I’m still not allowed to land in the parking lot. Rotors and street lights don’t go together and all that.” Charles pauses at the entrance to the cockpit, turning to see Henry’s reaction. He knows Henry wouldn’t mind any other time, but the little voice in the back of his head that’s still stubbornly seeing this as a _date_ hums in embarrassment. “If that’s… alright?” He ends his sentence lamely. 

Henry looks up at the pilot's hesitant tone, throwing him a thumbs up. Charles makes sure to hide his little breath of relief. Henry squints at the normal passenger seats, and Charles can tell he’s thinking. Whenever Henry thought about something too hard, his face always got this… look. It was the same intense look Henry got whenever he made a decision on a mission. His eyes focused on somewhere else, like he wasn't really looking at the seats in front of him. Henry’s brows were furrowed, and his mouth stretched into a thin line. The pilot watches his face, finding a fond feeling rise to his chest at the way Henry seemed so far away in his own head. 

He then blinks, and realizes he’s been staring at Henry’s face intently. Charles quickly rubs at his face, trying to hide the flush on his face. He quickly takes a few steps back, landing heavily into the rightmost seat. The pilot shuffled into the proper place, reaching up to drag the seat belt down to buckle. When he still felt a little flustered, he rubs at the headphones over his ears. The familiar plush texture grounds him, and he sighs. 

Not even into the “date” part, and he’s still a mess huh? 

He grumbles a little in frustration, muttering, “This is fine. You got this,” to himself. Because he does! He does have this, he just needed to calm down a little, right? After a few moments of glaring into space and wishing he didn’t have as big as a crush as he did, he finally leans over to call into the helicopter, “Hey-” his voice breaks, and he coughs, “Hey, we’re about to take off, so you might want to buckle up!” 

There’s suddenly a lot of noise from the back of the helicopter. Charles stares, confused and about to unbuckle to get up to see if everything was alright. Before he could, Henry came speeding forward, sliding to a stop before he crashed into the window. The pilot’s lucky he’s buckled in, otherwise he’s sure he would’ve fell out of his seat. _Why_ Henry decided to sprint to the front of the helicopter is anyone's guess, but it still startled him. 

“Oh!” He yelps, struggling to not accidentally kick a lever.

Henry reaches out a hand to try to steady him, grabbing him by the shoulder. Warmth blooms underneath Henry’s hand, and Charles hums happily inside his mind. Charles didn’t even fall that much, but he appreciates the assistance anyway. Especially since Henry’s touching him. For a second, the hand lingers and Charles stills. The air feels different all of a sudden. Charles blinks, staring up at Henry’s face. The former thief was pretty close, close enough that Charles could see little scars on Henry’s face. The pilot's head tilts; he wonders where Henry got them. Some were pretty pale, suggesting they were old. Did Henry get them from missions? Did he perhaps get him from his first heists? He wonders if Henry would tell him one day.

Henry jumps backwards then and straightens, quickly swinging his fist in a circular motion over his chest, “Sorry!”

The strange atmosphere abruptly falls away, leaving Charles feeling dazed. He realizes he had leaned forward a little in his seat, which he quickly corrects. He giggles nervously, waving a hand, “All good, you’re good.” Henry still has a little flush of embarrassment across his cheeks. It _does_ look nice on Henry, but Charles doesn’t want him to be embarrassed. “Why did you run up here?” He chirps, trying to smile. He hopes it doesn’t look strained.

“Didn't want you to take off without me being seated,” Henry returns, approaching the other pilot seat. The pilot's brows furrow at him, feeling torn. Technically Henry should sit in the passenger section, but there’s a part of Charles that wants to have Henry up front with him. So, he says nothing as Henry settles down in the seat besides him. Henry makes an effort to not bump into any of the controls, stepping around the Cyclic lever. With a quick motion, Henry’s all buckled up and ready to go. He offers Charles a smile, signing a quick, “Ready.” 

He nods, still feeling the flicker of _something_ in his gut from earlier. His hands tremble a little as he grips the controls with one hand, using the other to tap his headset. He still needed confirmation from Traffic Control back at base to take off. “Hey, heading to the restaurant now. The air clear?”

There’s a hum on the other side of the line, and then someone mumbles, “All clear. Weather’s alright.” The person from Traffic Control suddenly sounds closer, “Alright, you have clearance. Stay safe, go straight to the restaurant and then touch down.” The person pauses, and then adds, “No funny business, Charles.”

He snorted, Traffic Control at base seemed to always know when it was him calling in, “As always.” He shifts to take better control of the levers, settling into the proper position. He looks to his left to give Henry a nod, “Let’s go have fun!”

* * *

They land in a field of grass within walking distance of the restaurant. He had to call ahead before he did so, per the laws. The owners have told him multiple times that he didn’t need to at this point - who else rode up to dinner in a government helicopter? - but he still did anyway. It was polite to do, and it gave them something to tell their customers when a government helicopter suddenly came flying down to their rooftop. 

Charles hummed happily at the smooth landing, making sure the copter was completely off before unbuckling. It’s not like he hasn’t jumped out of a running helicopter before, but he had _Henry_ with him so he wanted to be safe! Henry, in contrast, did not wait at all. To the pilot's distress, as soon as they touched down Henry was already out of the seat. Charles was quick to follow, just catching Henry before he leapt out of the helicopter door.

“So quick to leave me,” Charles pouts, quickly sliding the door open. The two of them jump out, landing on the soft grass. Charles turns to close the door, shutting it with a click. Grabbing his keys, he locks the door. Yanking on it to make sure it was _really_ locked, he’s satisfied to see it not budge an inch.

He turns just in time to see Henry sign, “Why does your helicopter have a lockable door?”

“Well, why do cars lock?” Charles returns.

“To keep people from breaking in and stealing the car?”

“Same reason for the helicopter!”

Henry’s brow furrow, “With a car, it’s a quick hot-wire and then you go. With a helicopter you have to like understand air currents and all that.”

“Not really,” Charles hums. He then points to the cockpit, “There’s an instruction manual in the cockpit that I’m required to carry at all times. If someone found that they could take off with the very dangerous _government_ helicopter.”

“Not everyone would check for a manual,”

“No,” Charles admits, “but you would,” he points at the former thief as he says this, grinning. “You would also probably steal everything in there.”

Henry laughs, shoving his shoulder, “It’s a government helicopter! Who wouldn’t take a few things from in there?” 

“People who were aware that stealing government property is a Federal crime!”

“Sorry, I don’t speak cop.” Henry’s motions are slow and dramatic. 

“You will when you’re thrown in Federal prison,” Charles shoots back.

Henry waves a hand at this, “Ehh… I escaped the Wall with no problems, isn’t that a Federal prison?.”

“Well… I actually don’t know if the Wall is a Federal prison,” Charles mumbles, “Just a big complex with some dangerous criminals.”

“Isn’t a Federal prison the same thing?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been to Federal prison!”

“Yet,” Henry signs, and then abruptly turns to sprint off towards the restaurant.

Charles stares, both confused and alarmed at Henry’s sudden departure. Then Charles realizes what Henry said. “Yet,” he whispers. His eyes widen, “What do you mean yet?” Henry does not answer, seeing as he is currently running across the field. Charles takes some rushed steps forward, raising his voice to shout, “HENRY! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YET?!”

Over the sound of the wind, Charles hears Henry cackle. Charles stumbles, dashing forward to catch up with the former thief, “ _HENRY, NO!_ ”

* * *

By the time they got into the restaurant, they were both a mess. While chasing after Henry, Charles had managed to catch up enough to tackle the former thief to the ground. They had both went crashing to the ground, luckily on the grass instead of the pavement. After a long struggle of wrestling Henry to make sure he wouldn’t do something to get the both of them locked in a Federal prison - which involved a lot of screaming and laughing - Charles had managed to get the both of them to their feet. He was still hanging onto Henry by his hood like one would grab a kitten by its scruff, with another arm around the former thief’s middle for good measure. Charles wasn’t a fool, he knew that if Henry really wanted to he could weasel out of the hold easily, even if he _was_ muttering protests at the pilot. 

So there they went stumbling into the restaurant: disheveled, clinging to each other, and giggling. The hostess raised her eyebrows at them, her eyes flicking between the two of them. She let them catch their breath, leaning onto the door frame.

After a long while of the two wheezing between laughter, Charles smiled up at the patient lady, “Hi Veronica!” 

Veronica was both a waitress and a hostess at the restaurant, and a kind one at that. Charles knew everyone’s name here, but she was one of the first Charles ever learned the name of. She was known to carry mountains of plates back to the kitchen without breaking a sweat. One night, after a lot of encouragement, everyone learned her limit. She could carry up to forty dishes at a time! Which was really impressive, considering that included both plates _and_ cups. Though, there were some casualties from learning said limit. Charles had offered to clean up the broken materials that littered the floor after that incident. 

“Charles,” Veronica smiled, a little surprised smile on her face. “That was quite the entrance.”

“It was! You have my reservation, right?”

“I sure do,” She tapped at the computer screen in front of her. She looked up, “table for two at your regular table, right?”

Charles grinned, “That’s the one!” 

“I’m guessing you know the way, but since your,” Veronica trailed off for a second, giving Henry a once over. Charles, who still had an arm around Henry’s waist, released him quickly. He coughed, hating the way he could feel his cheeks warm up a little. Veronica’s smile grew, and she suddenly looked impish, “ _friend_ here probably doesn’t, I’ll lead the way for you two!”

“Of course!” Charles had a bad feeling about that smile, it looked like a shark that was about to open its jaws to swallow some poor fish, “go ahead!”

Veronica snickered, grabbing two menus from behind the desk, and walked in the direction of his table.

A tap on his shoulder got his head to turn. Henry was looking between him and Veronica, tilting his head to the side. “Who’s that?”

Charles smiled, happy to talk about a friend, “Oh, that’s Veronica! She’s really nice, you’ll like her,” Charles faltered, “At least I think you will.”

Henry nodded, but continued, “You know each other’s names.”

“I know all the worker’s names! They’re super kind to me, and I come here often so it’s not like it was hard to form some friendships!” Charles quickly glanced forward to make sure Veronica wasn’t listening, and then leaned over to whisper in Henry’s ear, “It probably also helps that I tip real well.”

The former thief snorted, giving him a look that spoke of so much _fondness_ it made the pilot's heart flip. “Always so kind,” He signed slowly, and Charles _knew_ what he was trying to do. 

“Henry,” Charles grumbled, already feeling a flush form, “really?”

“So gifting, so friendly,” Henry’s smile widened.

“No!” The pilot furiously rubbed at his face, which was turning red, “Stop it, you’re embarrassing me!”

“Whoops,” Henry whispered, sly. “But it’s true,” he returned to signing.

“One day,” Charles pointed a finger at the former thief, “I’ll get you back.”

Henry’s eyebrows raised, “Always so ambitious too!” 

The only thing that stopped Charles from giving Henry a dirty look was Veronica suddenly stopping. She turned, blinking at the pilot's red face, “Oh, we’re here!” 

“Thank you Veronica,” Charles ground out, practically jumping into his seat. Henry followed suit, albeit more smoothly. They sat in opposite chairs, facing each other. 

Veronica placed down the menus in front of them, giving them a smile, “Unfortunately, I won’t be serving you two tonight. I’m on hostess duty, as you can tell.”

“Oh that’s fine,” Charles assured. Suddenly, Charles remembered something and he gasped. Both Henry and Veronica looked to him then, obviously sensing his sudden mood change. “Oh my god, I totally forgot to introduce you!” He rubbed the back of his neck in guilt, giving them both a small smile, “Veronica, this is-”

“Henry Stickmin,” She finished for him, giving Henry a look. Henry stiffened, suddenly looking uncomfortable. Before Charles could say something to diffuse the situation, Veronica continued, “Yes, I know him. The better question would be: who wouldn’t know him? Pretty impressive work you’ve done.”

“Ah,” Charles interrupted, feeling uneasy. “Veronica-”

“I mean, stealing the largest diamond in the world? Sneaking onto a criminal airship that belonged to the largest, and most dangerous criminal organization on the planet? And then taking out their spaceship launch soon after? Then the times you broke out of prison… yes I know all about that.” Veronica laughed, but not unkindly, “You’re like stupidly talented, dude.”

Henry fumbles, hands flying to one of his pants pockets. He pulls out the writing pad he uses for people who didn’t know sign, and the pen to match. After a little while of scribbling, he throws the pad forward. The note read, “The Airship thing wasn’t released to the public. How do you know?”

Charles ducks, feeling hot in the face, at the same time Veronica says, “Charles told me about that. Talked on and on about how it was the smoothest mission he’s ever been on. Said how pleasant you were to work with, all that.” Veronica turns to look at him, her shark-smile returning. _She’s saying all this on purpose!_ “Right, Charles?”

“Well uh,” Charles squeaks, feeling Henry’s eyes on him. His heart is beating too hard in his chest, his face aflame, “I might’ve said… some things. I guess.”

“Some,” She hums, squinting at him. He wonders if flinging himself out of his seat would be considered impolite. 

“A lot… of things.” He admits, wringing his hands. 

“Yeah, so I know about you! Impressive work, like I’ve said.” Veronica nods to herself, satisfied. Henry was still staring at him, which Charles was pointedly ignoring. “But anyways, I’m Veronica!”

Henry nods slowly, reaching to write something on his writing pad. Charles looks just long enough to see what Henry wrote down, “Hello, Charles told me your name, and that you were kind. It is nice to meet you.”

Veronica places a flattered hand to her chest, “Well it’s nice to meet you too!” She blinks, and checks her watch, “Oh, I unfortunately can’t stay for much longer. My shift is still going, but I hope you have a nice dinner!” Veronica winks at him, and specifically him. And then, she walks off.

For a moment, there’s silence. Charles still can’t quite look Henry in the eye, so instead he focuses on the menu. He hears the ruffling of fabric, Henry probably put away his writing pad. He can still feel Henry’s eyes on him, so he blurts out, “I only said nice things, if you were wondering!”

Charles hears a snort, and he looks up without thinking. Henry’s staring at him, a little smile on his face. There’s the hint of pink on Henry’s face, and that alone sends the pilot's chest twisting. Slowly, Henry signs, “I know.” 

“Ah, that’s good…”

There’s no speaking for a long while. But then Henry moves his hands again. “I’m flattered.” 

Charles feels warmth bloom in his face again, and he giggles, “I’m glad, you really are impressive!” The pilot's tongue feels heavy in his mouth, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t ask for help if you need it! I’m always ready to help, you know that!”

Henry laughs, “Thanks.”

Charles leans forward, desperate to get his point across, “I mean it. I’ll be here to help you, always!”

The former thief suddenly tenses, clenching his jaw. Charles can almost _feel_ the tone skydiving, and he almost flinches. _Did he say something wrong?_

“Well uh-” His hands tap against the table anxiously, did Henry take offense to what he said in some way? “I mean that in a- I know you’re strong! I know you’re- um.” Henry does not look any better. He’s digging himself a deeper grave, he just needs to change the subject! “Look at that view!” He points out the window. It certainly wasn’t a smooth transition, unless you considered a bed of nails smooth, but it did the job. Henry looked to the window, and Charles followed suit.

To the pilot's left was a large window, which gave him the perfect view of the pond outside. It was a small thing, but there were twin waterfalls feeding into it. There also were some water lilies and lily pads growing on its surface, caught in the perfect time of year to bloom. Though there was some plant life on it, Charles could still see the water underneath. The last traces of sunlight sparkled off of it, turning it into a pretty red-orange color. He could see the pink-stained clouds in the pond’s reflection. It truly was a beautiful view, and at night it was even better. At that time, stars would glint off the water. Put together with the faint neon lights, it was stunning. He should bring Henry here again sometime, but at night. 

_If Henry liked it here, and if Charles was able to survive this “date.”_

That reminded him, Charles turned to get Henry’s reaction to the view. To his delight, Henry was staring wide eyed, and not looking tense anymore. “Oh,” Henry whispered, awed. The red light from the water lit up Henry’s eyes, painting him in a brilliant light. For a second, the world slowed, and nothing else really mattered. Henry was… spectacular, both in looks and personality. The light from the dying sun accented his looks, but Charles found his mind fading off. Despite being a former thief, Henry really was lovely. When Henry saw something he thought Charles or Ellie would like, he wouldn’t hesitate in getting it. Even if it wasn’t entirely paid for sometimes, it was really sweet. One day, Charles wants to learn what goes on inside Henry’s head. He wants to know _Henry,_ imperfections and all. It would probably take a long time, but he wouldn’t mind staying for a while.

A soft, warm feeling rises in his chest, and it almost feels like when Henry smiles at him, soft and inviting. Not quite though, this feeling was different than that. It... almost feels like love. 

He mentally shakes the thought away, _no this wasn’t love,_ he thought in frustration. This was never supposed to be love. This was supposed to be a crush through and through! It was probably just something new, like the first time his heart flipped in his chest when Henry did an impressive flip. 

That was it, anything else would be just silly! 

_”Are you sure?”_ The hesitant part of him murmurs. And... he isn’t.

* * *

The rest of the night goes along fine. The food is amazing, as it always is! The service was incredible, the waiter was a nice man who made sure to check on them frequently. Charles made sure to give him a hefty tip. When it came time to leave, Henry had to be practically dragged out of the restaurant.

“We _have_ to come back later!” he had signed furiously, a spark in his eyes that told Charles Henry wouldn’t take no for an answer. After assuring Henry that they would come back later, the former thief had left willingly. One quick check for clearance, and the two of them were flying back. It was relatively quiet flying back, the both of them content with the silence. Charles kept on rubbing at his headphones every couple of minutes, head strangely foggy. He hoped Henry didn’t notice, but the constant looks said otherwise. Hopefully Henry won’t ask; he isn’t sure of what’s wrong himself. 

They land, and once again Henry jumps up before the helicopter stops. Charles is torn between being frightened and fond at the action. After the helicopter settles, Charles unbuckles to follow. This time, he walks with Henry to his house. The bugs are loud tonight, crickets and croaks fill the air. The scene is almost tender with just the two of them. Quiet, serene. At the porch, they both turn to each other at the same time.

“Had fun,” Henry whispers, some of his first words of the night.

Charles nods, “Me too.”

The two of them proceed to stand there, not sure what to say next. If Charles didn’t know any better, he would’ve called the silence awkward

Henry’s head tilts, and he speaks up, “Would you want to go somewhere again?”

“Oh!” Charles brightens up at that, “Of course, why wouldn’t I?” He had gotten through today without dying, so he’s pretty sure he could go through another.

Henry seems pleased at this, nodding to himself, “I have a few ideas…”

“Well that’s always good!”

“It is…” Henry trails off again, and they return to silence. The crickets are louder now, Charles realizes. Henry’s staring at him, and there’s something expectant in his gaze. A sparkle of hope, an air of question. Charles has no idea what the former thief wants, and he hopes Henry won’t be mad about it.

After another minute, Henry looks away. Charles can see that Henry realizes he won’t be getting what he was looking for, but he didn’t seem upset. “Alright,” Henry murmurs. Charles is about to open his mouth to maybe apologize, but he stops when Henry catches his eye again. He’s smiling, and Charles feels some of his anxieties melt away, “you have a safe flight back, okay?”

Charles can’t help but smile back, “I will. My flights are always safe.”

Henry squints at Charles, eyes playful. “That’s a lie.”

“Hey,” Charles places a hand to his chest in faux offense, “I got you to the restaurant and back here without any troubles!”

“I guess,” Henry admits, shrugging his shoulders. “But still, don’t crash the copter or something.”

“Nobody ever lets me crash the helicopter!” He throws his hands up, “You’re no fun!”

Henry’s grin turns sharp, “According to Veronica, you said quite the opposite. I'm just so pleasant to work with, huh?”

“You-” Charles jumps away, waving his hands furiously. He’s sure he flushes a brand new shade of red, “That’s no fair!” It comes out as a shriek.

The former thief cackles, throwing his head back. He was absolutely _delighted_ at getting Charles to fluster so bad. Charles huffs, turning on his heel to walk to the helicopter, “Just for that I’m crashing the copter!” He’s not actually going to crash it, at least not yet.

“Nooo!” He hears Henry cry behind him, “How will we go out together again if you’re…” Henry trails off suddenly, as if he regrets saying what he was saying. It’s almost enough for Charles to turn around, but Henry continues, “not there in time?”

“Guess you’ll have to go yourself,” Charles jumps up into the helicopter. “If I suddenly go missing, check the forest, alrighty?”

Henry huffs, cupping his mouth to shout, “What if I didn’t have to search at all?”

“Sorry,” he calls back, cheeky, “can’t hear you!” Whatever Henry says next is muffled by the helicopter door. Charles laughs to himself, satisfied at having the last laugh.

He startles when his headphones suddenly buzz in his ear. Why was someone calling him via the government channels. Without hesitation, he clicks to answer, “What’s wro-”

“I’m not done with you, you bastard.” Henry says on the other line. Charles guffaws, clutching the side of the helicopter so he didn’t go tumbling. 

He almost forgot, Henry carried that headpiece with him _everywhere._

* * *

Charles collapses on his couch, letting out a sigh of relief at being home. It wasn’t that late, but Charles was (usually) an early riser. That meant going to bed earlier as well. He stretches, humming happily at the feeling. 

Something buzzes in his pocket and he pauses. He brings the object out, not at all surprised to see it was his phone. He squints, and he _is_ surprised to see it was Ellie who just sent a text.

“You home?”

Charles stares at the message, confused. Did Ellie know he had gone out? “Yes, why?” he sends back.

There’s a few seconds of nothing, and then, “Henry made me check. What, did you do something?”

Charles smiles, chest warming. Did Henry actually think he was going to crash the helicopter? He texts, “Just got back from going to dinner with Henry.”

“Oh, you two went on a date?”

Charles freezes, chest locking. Without thinking, he sends a quick, “No.”

“No? You two just had a nice bro meal together?”

The cold feeling in his body is replaced with the heat of embarrassment. His fingers stumble over the letters, “Henry didn’t say it was a date, so it wasn’t a date.” Ellie doesn’t respond for a long while, making Charles painfully aware of his pounding heart. His phone buzzes, and he looks down.

“Would you want it to be a date?”

The message is like a shot to the chest. _Of course_ he wants it to be a date, but nobody should know that. Nobody _could_ know that! He had kept it so carefully under wraps… worked so hard to make sure nobody would figure it out and _tell._ All of that was erased with one text message. Instead of rubbing at his headphones like he usually does, he digs his nails into the couch. If he’s not careful, it’ll tear.

His phone buzzes in his hand again, grounding him a slight bit. “Charles?” 

His head’s still running at speeds that could rival his helicopter. His hand is trembling as he types out, “Don’t tell him.” It’s like a dam breaking, and suddenly he can’t stop typing, “Don’t tell ANYONE. It’s fine, I’ll work it out. Get over it, you know?”

The longer it takes for Ellie to respond, the more he feels his palms start to sweat. “Why would you want to get over it?”

He blinks. Why _would_ he want to get over it? His breathing slows, “He’s not interested in dating.” 

“How do you know? You ever ask?” 

“No! If I did he’d be suspicious of me!”

“So you don’t know, and you’re telling yourself things.”

“Have you ever seen him ever flirt with anyone?”

“Yes,” Charles blanks, staring at the message. “Multiple times, in fact.”

So, Henry has flirted before. With someone that Charles never saw. Definitely not _him._ Part of him swells with hope, while another practically shrivels. If Ellie saw Henry _flirt_ that means it would have had to be some time recently. Which meant Henry was probably interested in someone else. 

“So he’s interested in someone else.”

“Dude.” Charles can practically feel Ellie’s disappointment through the phone screen, “Okay, go sleep or whatever you do at this time and think about your interactions with Henry very closely.”

“What is that supposed to do?”

“I’m not solving your romance drama for you, so I’m pointing you in the right direction.” He glares at his phone, hand going to send a response. “Go to sleep Charles. Have nice dreams about him or something.”

He flushes at that, and a huff escapes him. How Charles was supposed to sleep after _that_ conversation is anyone’s guess. He rubs at his face, groaning. He stares at his phone again, scrolling through the messages to look them over.

Think about his recent interactions with Henry, closely. Huh, he might just do that. His eyes softened, Ellie was just trying to help in her own cryptic way, wasn't she? 

He sighs, texting and hitting send, “Goodnight Ellie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In thus we get some of our favorite pilot's POV! 
> 
> This chapter was started September 3rd, and finished September 8th.


	4. Just A Little Push

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You said I was acting off?” Henry pauses for a moment, thinking hard by the look on his face, and seems to pick out his words carefully, “When exactly?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst relating to timelines and death. It starts wholesome, but it doesn't last. Stay safe!

You know, if you told Henry a few years ago that in the future he'd go on a sweet little date with someone, he'd be skeptical. If you told him he'd be going out with his best friend he would definitely think you were just trying to mess with him. Then if you said he'd enjoy it and want to go on another one, he'd openly laugh in your face. 

Henry had already tried to go on dates in the past. You know, setting up something with a nice looking girl or guy. Somewhere pleasant to be, get some nice food to chat over. But he never really felt a "connection" or whatever other people called it. It was basically the same as going out for a drink with a friend. Yeah, he might think they were nice to hang around, and maybe even a bit attractive, but he didn't have any interest in dating them. 

Henry didn't see the big deal about holding the person's hands tenderly. He didn't really understand how intense eye contact was seen as intimate when all it did was make him feel like he was being stared through. It was especially awkward when he was expected to get all of this without being told why. So when the dates ended, both parties usually decided to go their separate ways. 

One particular date ended with Henry getting chewed out by a girl who was so offended that he didn't give her a kiss after walking her home. Apparently, that was a thing people did? It certainly was new to Henry! But the girl was nearly driven to tears in her frustration over how him dropping her off was so _romantic_ and _kind_ and that not giving her a kiss was leading her on or something. Henry had been so surprised by the sudden onslaught that the only thing he could do was flee. It was safe to say that Henry and the girl never contacted each other again after all that. 

So Henry stopped going on dates because he clearly had no affinity for romance. And you know what? That was fine. He honestly didn't care, he wasn't missing anything. He didn't mourn, and he didn't try to push himself. The only reason he even had gone on dates was because other people had said he should, not because he wanted to date someone himself. Besides, he didn't need romance. All he really needed was some cash, and he knows how to get that.

So yes, if you had gone back and told him he'd enjoy a nice date with one of his best friends, he would laugh. Henry knew himself, and that did not sound like him.

Yet, here he was, face down on his beaten up couch, thinking about the date and smiling so hard his face hurt. 

It had gone well, which was a surprise in itself. Part of him had expected _something_ to try and intervene on their night out, like a rogue mugger or something equally as dangerous. He wouldn't put it above The Universe to set a pack of wolves on them just to ruin their day. He was pleased to see The Universe cooperate with him for once. Even the setting was perfect. Before, he used to be so confused why everyone said sunsets as something so romantic. While yes, the sunset was very pretty, he had no idea what it had to do with romance.

He kind of understood now. The sunset was a unique setting. The sight itself was dazzling, but it also painted everything in a hazy light. It was otherworldly, dream-like (he knew this for a fact, seeing as so many of his dreams are set at sunset). Seeing the sun ripple over that pond was beautiful in a way he couldn’t name. Turning to see the same view reflected in the pilot's eyes made his chest feel like it was caving in. His breath had left him in one swoop, almost making him gasp. Charles was smiling, soft, and Henry was convinced. There was no way Charles wasn’t feeling this too.

Charles had looked out the window again and murmured, “Beautiful, huh?”

It was, but Henry had found himself staring at something even more so. “Yeah,” he had whispered, voice hoarse. The pilot's hand had been on the table, and Henry had wanted nothing more than to take it. Henry knew that Charles sometimes wore gloves while flying his helicopter, but his hands had been bare then. Henry had wondered what they would feel like, were he brave enough to reach forward. He had known that he could have reached forward to hold the pilot's hand, but at that very moment he had felt the tightening in his chest that said that this was one of the choices where he couldn’t go back and fix. So, he had held back. But that was okay, because Charles was still smiling at the sunset and causing his heart to sing. 

The rest of the date had gone just as well. The food was amazing, and the waiter had been kind. It had started to get a little darker, so the sunlight had dimmed. The room had gone from a brilliant red and orange to a soft purple. It was almost The Universe Itself was setting this date up for them. Which was perfect! If you had The Universe on your side, you know everything was going to be alright. Henry had definitely felt The Universe’s assurance, it had gone pretty much perfectly!

An earlier part of the date, right before they had shared a tender moment in the light of the sunset, let itself be known with a poke. Henry felt himself wince, now that part wasn’t the best… but in the end it didn’t impact the date that much. Honestly, it wasn’t even the pilot's fault, even though Henry knows Charles thought it was. Henry had been feeling strangely off all day. When he woke up, he felt so horribly _anxious_ that he knew something had happened. A dream he couldn’t remember, perhaps. The terror of it still wormed into his heart though, and clamped down on his throat. Which wasn’t pleasant, but he got through it. But when Charles had said he would be there _always_ he had felt the sharp claws of it returning. Something between guilt and despair clouded in his chest, and Henry had known the dream had not been kind to the pilot. 

He wonders what it had been about. The dream could have been anything; could have been something as simple as a scene where he was responsible for Charles getting injured. Maybe it could have even been a strange dream where the two had ended up fighting or something. Or, It could have been something… much different.

You see, being in The Universe’s favor could be both a blessing and a curse. In the date it had certainly been a blessing, but there is always another side to a coin. Years and years ago Henry had found himself approaching a bank, desperate for money. Down on his luck, this kind of cash was his best bet. While he had the skills to break into people's homes, he always seemed to get caught. To get away before the police were called, Henry often found himself fleeing without taking anything at all.

He had felt a strange anxiety grip him before he walked forward, but he chalked it up to the situation. After all, who wouldn’t be anxious while breaking into a bank? But then he had dug down into a gas line and lit up a lighter to see, and the world went up in flames. Before he could even blink, he was gone. And wasn’t that cruel? A rather fierce lesson about karma and thinking before acting

That had been a show of The Universe against him, of It turning a blind eye to his struggles. Henry could feel the lack of care, and he got angry. He had reached out in whatever strange _cold and barren_ state he had been in, and gripped something warm. Wielding all the desire to prove The Universe wrong, to get It angry in turn, he had pulled. Abruptly, he snapped back to right before he decided to use explosives. The hot desert sand had been a harsh contrast to seconds before, of nothing, of indifference. 

Henry had suddenly felt a million eyes on him at once. Something was watching, intrigued by his furious denial against dying. The eyes had felt suffocating, and maybe even angry. This time, he had tried explosives to get into the bank, and felt cold fear rise in his gut when he dropped one. The world once again had exploded, turning him to dust. Except now, he was not in a cold void. He had turned, confused about the frozen world around him. It was moments after the explosion, which he could see in the distance. Why was he so far away? Completing his turn, he had stiffened. In front of him had been… something. Everything, yet nothing. Something so long it was impossible to measure, but something so small he had to squint to see clearly. Sometimes, it would be red, and other times blue. The only thing that stayed the same had been the _eyes_. There were too many to count, and every single one of them radiated pure anger.

Had he not been someone who just died twice, he might have cowered. But he did just die, so he didn't even tremble. Choosing one of the eyes to look at, he held eye contact. Here was The Universe, which had looked away from his death moments prior. It didn’t seem to appreciate that he had fought back. Oh no, It looked furious in a way he couldn’t describe. The thing shifted, and Henry couldn’t decide if It was approaching or leaving. Maybe It was trying to intimidate him, to get him to crumble under Its stare. Henry instead turns on his heel to face the frozen explosion in the background. The fury behind him grew into a wave, which he pointedly ignored.

He goes to walk, but stops when he catches the words floating in front of him. Had they always been there? Henry could not, for the life of him, tell you.

“Handle with care,” they had read, and Henry feels his blood boil. He whips around so fast his neck, had he been alive, would have snapped. The universe looks pleased at Its taunt, Henry thinks. The dead thief’s lip curls, and he reaches for something warm. He finds it once again, and watches the millions of eyes narrow. He yanks on it once again, and just misses the eyes widen.

He's back before the explosion, before the world turned into fire. Henry breathed, and he had decided to go for something less explosive.

He finds himself half in a wall. He tugs on the warmth, and then he’s back.

He’s crushed by a piece of the wall. He pulls, and he returns to his body.

He drives away in a crane with a wrecking ball attached, and he’s alright with not dying. But, he feels something cold settle in his gut. He had toppled over, clutching the crane’s controls, and suddenly he’s gone. Except, he had quickly returned steps away from the bank’s walls. Henry had blinked, confused, at the words in front of him.

“There's no construction scheduled for today.” 

He sees what game The Universe was playing. So even if he does not die, as long as he does not complete his goal he must restart. _Maybe he should not have rebelled against fate_ , he had thought to himself. Yet, he had continued. He got into the bank, and found himself getting arrested instead. Henry could feel The Universe’s amusement at his misfortune, and he had glowered. 

The prison had been a new experience. Sitting there, he did not expect for the guards to hand him a cake. It had been so _obviously_ a ploy to sneak Henry something, yet the guard didn’t check. Or did he forget to check? Perhaps it was The Universe’s interference, he could constantly feel the eyes on him now. 

He reached into the cake and-

Suddenly, choices had clearly revealed themselves in his head. Which was… confusing. Did the cake just carry one item, or did it carry all the options? All of the stuff before he had to go out and get himself, but now an abundance of items were being… handed to him. Perhaps the universe didn’t want to make him suffer until the end of time after all.

He mentally reached forward, reaching for a bottle, and had felt it magically materialize in his hand. Henry pulled it out and wasted no time downing it. Less than a minute later, a sharp pain in his chest built up. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and then it had stopped. He didn’t even get to see himself collapse: he was already gone. 

A little pull and he was back. He tried again, and ended up with a rocket in the face. Again, he stands before a target and less than a second later ends up with a bullet to the head. 

Fine, he’ll go with the obvious choice. The metal of the file felt heavy in his hand. He almost jumped when some choices appeared again. Slowly, he decides to go for the window. After a long time of slicing against the bars, he’s rewarded when one falls off. He smiled to himself, happy with his easy escape, and started to climb out. There’s nothing on the other side, and then he’s falling.

He’s back at the choices before he hits the ground, thankfully. His heart was still pounding from the adrenaline of free fall, so he reached for the file again. Except, this time he goes for the door. And he’s out. He smacks a few guards with the door bar (not without earning a kick to the face, and the _horrible_ experience of being tazed), and flees. Somewhere along the way he ends up getting trapped with a grenade, and he explodes into a million pieces. _Alright, don't use grenades again._

And then he was on the rooftop.

A few falls from the roof, a few more deaths, and he’s out of the prison. As soon as he’s out, he wonders if The Universe is satisfied. Will It let him go after all that? He could still feel Its eyes on him, but that previous anger was gone. He wasn’t sure if that made him less worried or not. He had no idea what The Universe would do when It was done watching him. Maybe It would get angry at his fight against fate again, sending him through more fails, except this time trapping him in them? He got through all these okay, but he has no idea what It will do if It feels… bored with him. After all, the king only kills the jester when he’s no longer entertained. 

The feeling of the eyes had lessened since then, but never completely went away. He’d learned to ignore the feeling by now. But he’s still learning about his newfound ability to cheat death and misfortune. Not all the time, but enough where it helps keep his life not a disaster. Every day is a new discovery of what he could do, and how far he could go.

It’s only years later, moments before breaking into the museum, he realizes that if he tugs on the warm string(?) that connects the fails, he can go back further than just the most recent fail. While he can only hold the string with his eyes open, he can see it if he closes his eyes. He looked out onto the events he’s been through, and paused at the sudden stop. The fails during the bank were not there. He yanks on the string, hard, and he stumbles. Except, he stumbles in his prison cell. With a twist in his stomach, he’s back with the cake. 

He reached in… and only felt the file. Confused, he waits for the ability to take out another item. It never came. The teleporter, the rocket launcher, the bottle of murder-him-juice… all gone. All that was there was, was the file. He remembered feeling unnerved that all of his choices had left. He didn’t expect the hit that was _he made his choice, and now he had to live with it._ That was his first experience with timeline splits.

The second experience with timelines came in the dreams. Though he had never gone through these different timeline splits, he could see them in dreams. Just after he had gotten out of that prison, he started getting these dreams. As soon as his head had hit his pillow, he was able to see just what would have happened had he decided to reach for the drill instead of the file on that day. He dreams of a bullet in his hand, of walking out of the prison confidently (Part of him was jealous he didn’t actually break out like that in the waking world). He also dreams of grabbing a phone and calling an attorney and getting out by actually cooperating with the law for once. He dreams, and dreams, and dreams. It's not until he tugs on the string to go back to the Prison that he puts two and two together. These were not just dreams, but memories from a different him. So much could have changed with a simple choice. From then on, he’s careful with his choices. He tries to get as many allies as possible, and makes as many safe choices as he can. He didn't want to make the same mistakes, and choose without thinking.

What he can tell from the dreams so far is that he’s been lucky, extremely lucky. After the Toppat spaceship was taken down, the dreams suddenly ramped up to full force. He gets them nearly every night now, even if he can't remember them when he wakes up. Perhaps the best timelines other than the one Henry was in is the ones where he ended up as leader of the Toppats (and wasn’t that jarring? To go from being leader of the Toppats to the Toppats’ downfall.) or the one where he ended up as Special Ops with Charles. With the Toppats he was free to be as much of a criminal as he wanted. There was no fear of being arrested, and sometimes he even had Ellie with him as an ally! And with Charles he didn’t have to worry about being arrested because he had the government on his side. And being friends with Charles was always a plus.

The worst ones have metal digging into his skin, and fire around him. A pain in his back, and the feeling that he was fading. Not even The Universe could help him in that timeline. He was dying, but he had gotten his revenge against those who wronged him. It was a way he didn’t mind dying. After all, he no longer had the protection of the Toppat clan. As soon as anyone found him, he’d be locked away forever. Either way, his life was ending there. He had closed his eyes and been thankful that he’s going out _his_ way.

Then, there was the one where he was disoriented, head spinning. There was an ache in his temple where he was thrown to the ground, but he was still on his feet. The window was broken, and soon after his heart was too. Nothing but fire and stars. Fire and stars. He was lucky that the night sky here looked nothing like it did beyond the atmosphere. The sight of galaxies made him anxious, and he has to look away from pictures of anything related to space. Before he had a fascination for space, for travel in the void that they struggled to explore. Not anymore, never again. 

But, he had told himself, that was okay because _he_ didn’t make those mistakes. Those weren’t his timeline, even though it was a Henry experiencing it. _He_ couldn’t ever possibly experience them, and he was glad for that. He wouldn’t give up his relationship with Ellie and Charles for the world. And besides, he seemed to be on okay terms with The Universe now. Henry was still just a little bitter that he could only do the tug on the string thing to go to before a mistake at specific times, but he guesses that’s better than The Universe being at his throat. And from what he can tell from the date going so well it was almost suspicious, The Universe had a soft spot for him. 

The final, grand experience of his powers was the twisting, writhing, furious spike of anxiety he always got just before he was close to fails. A lot of the time, the anxiety would be masked by the general stress from being on a mission, since fails were more than likely during this time. He never really felt anything different when he’s at a timeline split, which was just more troubling. Having no idea what would decide his fate until he was already past the decision was terrifying. Henry had to deal with that kind of stuff before literally defying The Universe Itself, but now that he had the luxury to fix certain mistakes, not being able to fix his most important ones was kind of silly.

Yet these were the cards he was given, and he's always been good at card games.

He's still face down on the couch when he pulls himself out of his small spiral. Henry groans, turning to lay on his back instead. That was a sad turn of events, whatever happened to the date thing? Leave it to him to go down _that_ road instead of something nice.

You know what? No, he _was_ going to think of something nice! Like the pilot's face when he was trying not to laugh. The way his nose would scrunch up was adorable. Henry could always see the pilot's lips tremble when he tried to hold back his laughter. Charles then usually goes to bite his lip, or maybe his knuckles if he was desperate enough. Despite how much he tries, small giggles always manages to leave him. And when he couldn't hold it in any more, it burst out of him like a dam breaking. It always was louder than normal, like him holding it back made it build up over time. And it was musical how delighted he always sounded. If Henry ever felt bad, just hearing Charles laugh would lighten his mood.

Henry sighs, running a hand down his warm face. He's sure he's smiling like an idiot right now. If anyone would have walked in (which nobody did since he was _alone in his house_ ) he was sure they'd think he looked absolutely ridiculous. Like something out of a dumb romance movie where the main character saw their love interest walk by. It was so utterly cliché that part of Henry was annoyed with himself for falling into the trope.

But the other part of him that was staring at the ceiling, hiding his face in his hands, couldn't be bothered. Henry's chest felt light, and it took everything in him to not giggle like a goddamn teenager.

Oh he was so screwed. But that was okay, because Charles and Henry had just gone on a date! The two of them could be lovestruck fools together! Henry would have to ask Charles about when he wanted to set up another date, because Henry was eager for the next. Maybe he could invite the pilot over to his house? Or maybe the two of them could go see a movie like people did in that one romance movie Charles had put on one time.

Or maybe Charles had an idea of where to go next? He was interested to see what kind of date Charles would recommend. Knowing the pilot, it'd be something fun. Or dangerous. He could vividly imagine Charles taking the two of them out into the middle of nowhere to blow stuff up with government prototypes. But you know what, Henry would adore that kind of date. 

Henry blinks, and realizes he should probably do something else except lie down on his couch and daydream about the pilot. It's not like it was a waste of time, but he thinks he still has a few things to clean up. Some dishes maybe, or even do something like vacuum.

He groans, sitting up. He didn't want to do chores. Chores were boring and messy. _But if he wanted Charles to come over sometime..._

Huffing, Henry stands up. He does not appreciate his brain using this whole love thing against him. 

* * *

About three months later, Henry gets the courage to invite Charles over to his house. They've had plenty of dates after the first one; every couple days they'd go out somewhere and just enjoy each other's company. Henry had also been laying down his best flirting attempts. Every chance possible he’d stay in physical contact with the pilot. A touch on the arm, a brush against his side, and maybe even leaning against each other during their movie nights. Charles seemed to be soaking the touches up, so Henry was feeling pretty confident in himself. He's also been using some pickup lines whenever possible, but Charles didn't seem to really react to those. Still, he says them often when getting done with a mission. He'd be lying if he said he didn't say them for Ellie's reactions as well. She always made this drawn out sigh, with a pointed glare in Henry's direction. It was just too amusing to him, and it wasn't like Ellie told him to cut it out. 

Either way, Henry eventually felt a knot of something like frustration build in his chest. He'd been flirting the best he could (some successful, some not. He was NOT going to talk about the Tennessee line.) but they seemed to stay in the same state of being together. As much as he enjoyed just hanging out with Charles, a sense of impatience was hanging over him. He's not the best at the whole romance thing, but he thinks that they were moving relatively slow. Maybe he was just being anxious, but everywhere he seemed to look said that after like ten dates you should be kissing and stuff. They very much were not doing that, as much as Henry wished they were.

So he turned to something else. He read somewhere that inviting someone over to your house showed off how committed you were to them? Though, his stomach curled with nerves while sending the message. He's not quite sure why he was suddenly nervous over Charles coming over, but maybe it was because it was the first time Charles would see his house? He knew Ellie and Charles had their own little theories over what the inside of his house looks like. He let them have their ideas, especially since they had so much fun coming up with strange ideas.

Now he was feeling bad that Ellie wouldn't get to see the house if he invited only Charles over. So, in a moment of weakness, he sent Ellie a message to invite her over as well. 

It didn't even take them an hour to get over. Charles at least had the excuse of his helicopter being pretty fast. How Ellie managed to get to his house in a half hour on her motorcycle was beyond Henry. His best idea included a lot of speeding, or maybe even using her weird force abilities. 

He had opened the door, and almost got bowled over by his two very excited friends who wasted no time in ransacking his house.

"Where's your secret lair entrance!" Came Ellie's cry from the other room. After a moment of loud crashes that Henry's _sure_ is his dishes, Ellie sticks her head out of the entrance to the kitchen. She gives him an incredulous look, "Do you not have a secret lair?"

Henry stares at her, hopelessly confused. He signs slowly, "No?"

"No?!" Ellie throws her hands up, "Where in the world do you keep all your illegal shit?"

Henry's brows raise, "Why would I tell you?"

"Because we're partners in crime?" Ellie offers, walking over to shove his shoulder playfully, "Best friends?" Henry hums, narrowing his eyes at the redhead who he _knows_ was just trying to get into his wares. Probably looking for that wristwatch Henry stole anyway.

Charles decided to make himself known. Taking a few steps out of the garage, he gives the two a look. The pilot looks amused, but also exasperated, "Hey Henry, why do you have a police car in there?"

Ah, the police car. His lovely, very much illegal police car. Not even trying to hide his smile, he signs, "Stole it."

"Well yeah, silly," Charles smiles at him though, so he doesn't feel so silly, "I meant, why did you steal it?"

"Cops were being mean, so I stole their car."

"You'll never get to use it though," Ellie pipes in. "They see someone who's not a cop driving, and they'll pull you over within seconds."

"Doesn't matter, I got the car and they don't."

"I'm still caught on the 'where you keep your stuff thing' you know," Ellie turns slowly to give the entire house a suspicious look, as if she's find a hidden trap door that will reveal where he squirrels away his spoils, "You can't just like hide a lifetime of steals under the floorboards, can you?" As she said this, she gave the floor an experimental stomp. As Henry expected, the floor shrieked like a dying creature that's been wronged. But that wasn't because he was hiding anything under there, the floors were just terribly put together.

Before Ellie could jump on the opportunity to rip up his floors, "Ignore that, they've done that for years."

"Years," Charles echoed, brows furrowing, "what, you just not have time to fix them?"

"Oh, I don't own the house," Henry dramatically throws himself onto his poor couch, practically feeling a spring snap from under him. The couch creaks, and for one moment Henry's sure the sofa is going to break in half. It was an old thing, since it came with the house ages ago, so he wouldn't be surprised if it broke. It's not like Henry was careful with it, and it can only take so much abuse. It doesn't break, however, and Henry's relieved he doesn't have to buy a new couch. 

Charles had jumped at the couch's scream of agony, obviously not expecting the sofa to sound near death. "You don't own it?" The pilot's eyes narrow, "Did you steal an entire house?"

"Oh, _please_ tell me you stole it," Ellie looks thrilled by the idea of it, and Henry almost feels bad about having to let her down.

Henry snickers into the palm of his hand, "No, the only thievery going on here is when the landlord comes around and tries to demand more money than he needs." 

"Oh," Ellie deflates, disappointed, "you're renting."

"How in the world did you manage to get to rent a house?" Charles genuinely looks confused at this, "Didn't you have this before you got that pardon? Did they let you in despite the whole criminal record?"

Henry hums, shrugging, "Had to use an alias. Luckily, the landlord never checked."

Ellie parks right up, a smile stretching across her face, "Oh, an _alias?_ You have to tell us what it is."

Oh, they wanted to know his genius? They wished to hear the sacred name that took him a whole week to perfect and craft? Henry grins a grin that could only be mischievous and gestures to the couch, "You might want to take a seat."

"Oh god," Charles whispers, but Henry can see the excited glint in his eye.

The two sit down then, settling carefully on the couch. With every movement the couch continues to make noise. It's kind of as if the couch was trying to cuss Henry out for his crimes against it. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if the couch suddenly grew a mouth to do so. And besides, a cursing, pissed off couch wouldn't be the strangest thing he's seen.

Henry does nothing but smile as the two get comfortable. When the two finally seem to realize the couch wasn't going to break under their touch, he nods.

"Alright," He signs slowly, hands trembling from his own excitement, "so first I would like to say that this name took me ages to get right."

"Oh no,"

Henry continues, trying not to break down into laughter at Ellie's horrified expression. "I would lie awake at night thinking, scheming, desperately trying to think of something to hide my criminal identity. I see it as an embodiment of my own intelligence, and I hope you two see it like I do."

Charles fakes a cringe, biting on his knuckle to stop his lips from twitching. "This is terrifying, but continue."

"Now," Henry's glad he's signing, because he isn't quite sure he'd be able to get words out past his smile, "I reveal to you…" He lets the two lean forward, waiting just a little longer for the proper suspense. And then…

"Poekeet G. Nyfe."

The two stare at his hands in confusion, trying to put together what in the world he finger spelled.

"Poe… keet?" Ellie hissed, giving him an incredulous look. "Is that even a name?" Henry just smiles back at her.

"Nigh…. nyfe." Charles repeats the last name to himself, squinting. After a moment of muttering, Henry hears it, "knife…" The former thief can see the exact moment Charles realizes what he said. The pilot's head suddenly shoots up, eyes wide. There's an almost hysterical look there, caught between disbelief and pure joy. Charles opens his mouth, and out comes- 

Ellie's furious cry of, "Did you make your fucking alias _Pocket Knife?!_ "

Henry promptly loses it, throwing his head back to let out a laugh so loud it hurts. He clutches his own ribs, trying in vain to stop any potential pain there. But of course, his body never listened to him anyway. He can distantly hear Charles join him in laughter.

"Are you serious?!" He hears Ellie bark, but Henry can hear the waver in her voice that said she was trying not to laugh too. And that only makes him laugh harder. She ends up breaking in the end. They were just three fools on his poor dying couch losing their minds over a stupid name that Henry made up out of thin air. 

After a moment of desperately trying to pull air back into his lungs, Henry clutches his aching sides. His breaths come in more as wheezes than actual breaths. Henry's trying not to cough on the air that he managed to choke down, but he still let's a few coughs out. He wheezes once more, and wipes the tears from his eyes.

Their reaction was _golden._ It was exactly what Henry was looking for, and he was more than overjoyed to get it. 

"You…" Ellie's still holding onto the arm of the couch for dear life, and desperately trying to get words out. "There was a… G in there?"

Henry snickers, fighting down another cough. His hands are shaking as he spells out, "Guyn."

"Guyn?" Charles shrieks, and Henry can almost _feel_ the pilot's delight, "As in gun?!"

Henry nods, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing again. 

"You, Henry," Charles points a finger at him, and lets out a breathy laugh that makes Henry's heart flutter, "are terrible."

"Maybe so," Henry murmurs, and he isn't surprised when his voice comes out rougher than normal. He leans deeper into the couch, not even reacting to the shrill squeak it lets out. His smile’s a lazy thing, making itself home across his face, like it always seemed to do with the others. He points a finger in the pilot's direction, and simply signs, "but 'cha love me!"

* * *

Charles is lucky that Henry looks away just in time to miss the pilot choke on air. He wheezes, thumping a hand against his chest to hopefully get a hold of his spluttering insides, but fails to get anywhere. For a moment, panic grips his ribs like a vice and _squeezes._ It quickly releases with the realization that Henry definitely did not mean it seriously, despite the (partial, he told himself) truth behind it. Charles is able to hide his strangled noise of surprise with a laugh, but even he is able to hear the strained note to it. 

Oh, Henry had _no idea_ how true that comment was.

It's been months, and Charles was still hopelessly smitten. It wasn't like Charles didn't try to get over the crush though! Henry just seemed to always want to go somewhere with Charles, and Charles was always willing to hang out with Henry. The only problem was that these outings the two would go on always seemed just a hair away from being dates. Like, all it would take is one of them to loudly proclaim that this seemed romantic, and then it would very swiftly feel like a date. It... kind of hurt, if the aching in his chest was anything to go by. Charles knew, logically, that it was just his overwhelming longing making these days out feel like dates. But said longing did not care what logic said, and went running wild like a child inside a candy store every time Henry asked if they could go somewhere.

Luckily (or maybe unluckily), it seems like Henry will continue to have no idea, since he’s too busy trying to regain his composure after that laughing fit. He can feel Ellie’s eyes boring holes into the side of his head, and Charles knows his forced laughter didn’t fool her. It’s a shame, but Charles kind of saw it coming. Ever since the whole text fiasco Ellie had been watching him like a hawk. And whenever Henry and him were talking - or even just close together in the same room - Ellie would get this look on her face, and she’d sigh her own lungs out. That was only barely an exaggeration. Charles is worried that eventually Ellie will actually manage to sigh so hard her eyes will roll back into her head from the force of it.

Charles can feel the exact moment Ellie’s eyes leave him, and he’s able to breathe.

“So,” Ellie says, and he’s able to force himself to face the redhead, “what are we doing next?”

Henry pauses to think for a second, staring into space. After a moment of silence, Henry perks up. The former thief straightens, and promptly shrugs.

“Oh,” Charles would be lying if he said he didn’t expect something over the top. If Henry could find something that was that was stupid, somehow he’d make it even more stupid. And then that stupid thing would work, and it would work splendidly. So if there was one thing Charles found respectable about the former thief is that he was resourceful. But one thing Charles was so terribly fond about was Henry’s pure spite about _if he wanted to do something he was going to do it._ No obstacles in his path would stop him.

Ellie snorted, “Well that’s very helpful.”

Henry shoots her a thumbs up, shit-eating grin wide on his face.

Ellie does not seem to be amused by this. She raises a single eyebrow, and gives Henry one of the fiercest death stares the pilot’s ever seen. But like someone who’s met death and spat in its face, Henry barely even blinks. How Henry manages to not cower in the force of such a stare is beyond Charles, he’s sure he’d break out into a sweat over even a glance. 

Ellie hums, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hand, “Well then, Mr. ‘I Don’t Know What To Do’, how about you show us your secret jewelry hoard?”

Henry laughs at this, eyes shining in mirth. He swings his legs like a child would for a moment, seemingly thinking it out. In the silence, Ellie leans forward more, eager to hear his answer. Then, Henry shakes his head, “Nah.”

“What, afraid I’m gonna steal it while you sleep?”

“Sure.” Charles can tell from Henry’s face alone that this is not the case.

Ellie must see it too, because her eyes narrow even further. “Listen here, Stickmin,” she says with mock anger, pointing a finger at the smiling thief, “one day you’ll cave and I’ll be able to get that watch back.”

“Not today,” Henry returns, winking. It takes everything in the pilot's power to not break down into giggles. Instead, he pressed a hand against his mouth, fighting back the twitching corners of his lips. Henry looks over at him for a second, and Charles is able to catch the briefest look of a bright sparkle of satisfaction and _joy_ light up in Henry’s eyes before he turns to face Ellie once again. 

Before he’s able to overthink the look, Ellie barges in, “Maybe so, but then I guess that means you’ll never get to hear why I got into The Wall!”

Henry gasps, putting a hand over his heart in hurt. “That’s mean!” 

“I helped get you out of there, and I’m not even allowed to see one piece of gold in return? _That_ is being mean!”

“I invite you to my _house_ ,” Henry signs with narrowed eyes, offended, “let you into my walls, offer a nice place to rest, and the only thing on your mind is my _money._ ”

“Gold digger,” Charles giggles, jumping away from Ellie’s hand to have it graze him instead of punch him. “Hey! No punching the pilot!”

“Take that back!” Ellie shrieks, crawling over the couch, much to the sofa’s dismay if the squeaks are anything to go by. “You little-”

“No insulting the pilot either!”

Ellie lunges for him, and since the couch is only so large, he has no room to dodge. He tries though, but cannot escape when Ellie hooks an arm around his throat. Half giggling, half yelping, Charles lets himself be dragged further into the trap. He knows fully well that the arm around his neck is way too loose for Ellie’s real strength, and if he really _was_ distressed Charles could flip Ellie right off the couch (you didn’t get into the government without a good amount of muscle!) 

Charles feels two fingers poke him in the temple, and hears Ellie hiss from above him, “Give me the goods or else he _gets_ it.”

The pilot has to hold down a snicker, and decides to flail his hands around. Hopefully, it nails the ‘in distress’ he was going for. “Oh no!” he cries, voice filled with too much humor for the distress to sound genuine, “I’ve been captured!”

“Yes, you have,” Ellie pokes him in the temple again, “and the ransom’s gonna be a high fee!”

“Oh really?” Charles locks eyes with Henry when the former thief speaks. He can see amusement dancing in Henry’s eyes, and he can only grin. “How high we talkin’?”

“Ah…” Charles looks up at his “captor” the same time she looks down at him, “how much you willing to pay?”

Henry hums, squinting his eyes at the pilot. Charles throws twin thumbs up, smiling like an idiot. That seems to make up Henry’s mind, as he nods, “Around twenty max.”

“Million?” Charles asks.

“No.”

“Thousand?” Ellie suggests instead.

Henry smirks, “No, twenty dollars.”

Charles gapes at the former thief, trying to put as much offense in his face as possible. “Hey!” his voice comes out high and squeaky, and he hears Ellie snort above him.

“Wow, twenty bucks? You really willing to spend that much?” 

Charles snarls, reaching up to smack Ellie on the shoulder. “I thought I said no insulting the pilot!”

“You’re right, twenty’s too much,” Henry amends, dodging one of the pilot's kicks. “How about… whatever I have in my pockets?”

Ellie grins, reaching out to shake hands with the thief, “You have yourself a deal!”

“Feeling really loved right now, guys.” Charles calls, sinking down into the couch. Ellie gives him a little pat on the shoulder, but that's where her empathy ended.

Henry straightens then, reaching up to grab the zipper for his hoodie. In one smooth motion, the jacket is thrown off Henry’s shoulders. Taking the dark material in his hands, the former thief started shaking it up and down like a madman. Charles watches, somewhere between horror and awe as what looks like a waterfall of lockpicks come pouring out. They hit the ground with a loud metallic clatter, lockpick after lockpick falling to form a rather large pile. Henry kept on shaking his hoodie, and even more goods came out. Other than the steady supply of lockpicks, other things joined the pile. Multiple crumpled up balls of paper fell out, scattering when they hit the ground. A large metal box of some kind with a green screen and an antenna dropped out, and Henry stiffened. He kicked the box away, glaring at it while it flew across the floor. 

Ellie’s arm around his neck loosened, and Charles guessed that was his permission to leave. So, after pulling himself out of the hold, he sat right back up on the couch. Looking out over the sea of items, he could only stare in confusion. How in the world had Henry managed to fit all of this stuff in his hoodie? He knew that the former thief had a good amount of hidden pockets in his hoodie, but this much stuff was almost obscene. There had to be at least thirty lockpicks alone - and why exactly did Henry need so many lockpicks? Charles saw the knife Henry had always carried on him, and he really shouldn’t be so surprised to see it was joined by a few other new weapons. One of the weapons was just straight up a jewel encased dagger (which Charles had to admit was pretty). 

Charles squinted at the pretty dagger, suddenly seeing the connection. Delicately, he took it into his hands, running a finger down the side. The style of the gold hilt was familiar, and he felt like he _knew_ those cyan jewels. Slowly, not quite sure of himself, he asks, “Is this Toppat?” Henry seems pleased he recognized the style. The former thief nods proudly. Before Henry can sign, Charles raises an eyebrow, “Let me guess, stole it?”

“You know me so well.” Henry signs, amused.

Ellie took the dagger from the pilot's hands. Her eyes were shining, obviously captivated by the beauty of the weapon. She murmured out a soft, “Oh yes, this’ll do well for the ransom.” 

“Ellie, you can’t just take it!” Charles gives Ellie a funny look. Sometimes his two friends could be so silly with their thievery. 

“I’m joking!” She cried, going to hand it back. She faltered when Henry threw a hand up, facing his palm out towards her. Dumfounded, “Uh, dude don’t you want it back?”

“You want it?” Henry asks instead, head tilting.

“I was joking Henry, you can have it back.” 

Henry smiles, “Have it, I have another that looks the exact same.”

Charles fights down a laugh, “How many knives do you have?”

“A lot,” the former thief signs slowly. Ellie was still holding the dagger awkwardly, not quite sure what to do with it. Henry waves a hand at her, gesturing at her to put it away. “Keep it!”

Ellie stays still for just a moment, and then the dagger’s shoved into some pocket on the inside of her motorcycle jacket. For a second, the pilot's eyebrows furrow. What was with his friends and having hidden pockets?

“Well now,” Ellie hums, pleased, “I am armed.”

“Are you ever not armed?” Charles asks, confident that he’s seen a secret holster on Ellie’s ankle that one time.

“Well, no,” She admits, “but now I’m armed in style.”

Charles nods, attention quickly going back to the pile in the middle of the floor. There’s still a few items mixed in with the sea of lockpicks. He can see a glint of metal from what Charles thinks is Henry’s keys. There’s plenty of paper mixed in the pile as well, most likely notes Henry’s written to himself and forgotten to throw away. He pauses when he sees a piece of paper that, instead of being crimped, is folded. Though, somehow, another one of Henry’s (many?) knives managed to land point downward, stabbing right through the paper.

“Uh, hey Henry,” he pokes Henry in the shoulder, waiting to get the former thief’s attention. When he’s sure Henry is looking at him, he points at the stabbed paper.

Henry’s eyebrows furrow, staring at the knife that is most likely stabbed through his carpet. “Fuck.”

Charles quickly leans forward to get rid of the perpetrator, “I got it, it’s fine,” He grips the simple handle of the knife and pulls out in one fluid motion. The knife wasn’t stuck far, so the removal was easy. He pokes around the stab point, finding a tiny intrusion where the knife must’ve gotten through. “There’s a little stab mark, sorry.”

Henry pats him on the shoulder, an action Charles found Henry doing more often than he used to do. Either way, Charles hands over the knife, which Henry takes without much care. He throws the knife on the floor, letting it clatter against the pile of metal. That… definitely isn’t safe, but whatever. Henry’s gonna have to clean it up anyways. Unless, of course, Henry asked him to help, which he’d do without hesitation. 

He still has the stabbed paper in his other hand. The paper’s been folded twice over, hiding whatever’s at its center. Charles would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about the paper’s contents, but the part of him that furiously respected people’s privacy hissed at him. It would be impolite to open a note of Henry’s without his permission. 

So, he makes sure Henry can see the note. He waves it around the couple times, meeting Henry’s eyes. “Can I look at this?” he asks, in what he hopes in a neutral tone. He wouldn’t want to guilt Henry into letting him see after all.

Henry stares at the note, faltering for just a split second. It’s obvious he doesn’t recognize the note in the pilot's hand. The former thief’s face suddenly morphs into one of extreme thought. It’s almost overwhelming having that look suddenly directed at him. He’s seen the look before during missions, but it’s never been so obviously related to a choice involving him. Charles almost flinches backwards. He does pointedly avoid looking into Henry’s eyes, hoping to shed away some of that look’s intensity. He fights a flush at the intense attention; if he’d known Henry would treat the choice like life or death Charles would have never asked.

In fact, he fumbles, trying to push the paper back to the thief. “Never mind,” Charles mutters quickly, “forget I asked, have it back.” 

A hand grabs his, and he startles. “Sorry,” Henry whispers, pushing the paper back to the pilot's chest. When he’s able to look at Henry’s face again, he can see the thief is sheepish. Henry abruptly takes his hands back, signing out a quick, “zoned out. You can look at it!”

Charles knows for a _fact_ that wasn’t just zoning out. Charles knew Henry well enough to know that he only got that look on his face when pressed with a very important decision. A thought makes its way to his head, and his heart flips. Was this note important to Henry in some way? Henry had looked like he didn’t recognize the note, but maybe he had realized what it was when he “zoned out”? Maybe Henry was trusting him with some important secret…

Well, him and Ellie. He could feel the redhead hovering over his shoulder to see the note. Ah, that brings up a good point. Charles gestures over at her, “Can she see it too, or no?” Ellie seems alarmed at being called out, and gives Charles a small look.

Henry shakes his head fondly at them, and nods.

Ellie practically jumps onto his shoulder then, excitedly pointing at the folder piece of paper. “Open it!” 

Charles fights a laugh at Ellie’s excitement. It’s not like Charles was much better anyways, he’s feeling jittery just holding it. He doesn’t know why, but he just can _feel_ that this paper is important. He doesn’t think much on this fact, too busy unfolding the paper. 

The first thing he notices is the four holes in the paper. This isn’t surprising, seeing as though it was being stabbed through with a knife moments before.

The second thing he notices is the drawing. It’s a sketchy thing, lines rushed and messy. Whoever drew this (Henry, perhaps?) definitely was not worried about keeping a lot of detail. The… creature on the paper is something he’s never seen before. It had a head made of what looked like smoke. The head was shaded in, making it almost look black. Four horns stretched from the smoke, curling elegantly. He thinks the rough rectangular shape poking from below the head was supposed to be a mouth. That’s where the structure of the drawing stopped. Beyond the head, the body delved into near chaos. It looked vaguely serpentine, but that was a stretch. The whole being looked like it was made of clouds, pieces of it breaking off and dissolving. Some of the clouds were shaded in like the head, but in a way that made it seem… galaxy like? He squints, finding two broken off clouds near the front ended in what looked like hands.

Charles looks over the drawing again, jerking when he focuses on the head once again. Before, it seemed like the head had just been a dark collection of smoke. But now there were _eyes_. So many of them, it was too much to count. How could he have missed the eyes before? They were a pretty big thing in the drawing overall.

He manages to wrench his eyes away from the eyes, instead focusing anywhere but the creature’s face. His eyes decide to latch onto scribbled writing at the top. It’s difficult to read, but if he squints he can make it out. 

“The Universe,” the writing read, and Charles felt some kind of emotion radiate from the words. They were not elegantly written, put in there as a last-minute thought. It was an intensity he couldn’t name, but he could understand as if the emotions were his own. A burning sensation in his chest; a hatred yet fondness. Worship, but denial. 

They were not his emotions, however, and they never would be. He felt like he needed to remember that, to take it to heart.

_What a dangerous thing, to feel emotions that were not your own._

Charles forcefully puts the drawing in his lap, and his previous thoughts leave him as fast as they had come. Thoughts of emotions and intensity are gone: they never existed. All he could think about is how wonderful the drawing looked. Charles turns to give Henry a smile, “Wow, did you draw this?”

Henry blinks at him, confused. “Draw,” he mouths, reaching out to take the paper from the pilot’s hands. 

“Yeah man, that looks awesome!” Ellie calls from behind Charles. He leans over so Ellie can look at Henry better.

The thief turns the to face himself, and his face blanks. The emotion that fills Henry’s eyes rapidly flickers. In a split second he looked panicked, and the next he looked relaxed. The corner of Henry’s mouth turns downward into a frown. It looks wrong, and Charles suddenly felt a prickle of dread on the back of his neck. 

Henry then looks like he’s thrown from his strange daze. He closes his eyes, rubbing his hands over his face in a fit of what Charles thinks is frustration.

“Uh,” Charles mutters lamely, “You alright?”

Henry does not respond, instead tilting his head back to glare at the ceiling. It would look intimidating had it been directed anywhere but the sky. He holds the paper tightly, making little crinkles form in the paper. For a moment Charles is scared Henry’s going to accidentally grab one of the tears and start ripping.

“Henry,” Ellie’s voice is soft.

Henry’s head snaps back down, meeting Ellie’s eyes. Or was it the pilot’s eyes? Charles couldn’t tell, maybe Henry was looking between them so fast it was hard to see who exactly he was looking at. Some of the tension in Henry’s eyes leave, and Charles feels the growling feeling of worry in his stomach die. Henry thumbs the paper, barely sparing it another glance. 

The silence is deafening as Henry hands the paper back. Charles takes it without a word, but part of him wants to kindly ask for Ellie’s fancy knife to cut the drawing into tiny little pieces. “Sorry,” Henry croaks.

“It’s fine!” Charles reassures, and starts folding the paper up as quick as he could, “What happened?”

Henry shakes his head, “Forgot I drew that.” The thief pauses between his signs, staring at the blank square in the pilot’s lap. “Wasn’t sure if I should tell you, was thinking it over.”

Ellie leans forward, “tell us?”

“Yes,” Henry points at the paper, “that is The Universe."

And the way he says it is different. It’s similar to the intensity of the words scribbled on the paper, but much more raw. There’s too much there for just two words. It carries a meaning Charles couldn’t understand, leaving him floundering. He does, however, feel the extreme need to get what’s being laid out. An invisible force begging him to open his mind, to let it inside. He runs a finger over the folded paper, and he almost understands.

Not quite though.

"Or well, The Universe when It decides It wants to be visible to mortals without breaking their minds or something. When I first met It, It tried to take on Its true form to obliterate me. It didn't work.” 

“That’s an interesting way of drawing the universe,” Charles mumbles.

Ellie pipes up, “Yeah, couldn’t you have just drawn a planet or something? The Milky Way?” 

Henry’s face falls, and Charles feels bad, “You don’t understand,” Henry says, the most simple thing in the world. There’s disappointment there, maybe frustration. Charles is able to empathize; trying to explain something that people didn’t understand would be very frustrating to him.

“Yeah, sorry.” 

Henry waves a hand at him, signing “No, no it’s fine. Shouldn't have expected you to…" Henry groans, trailing off into incoherent grumbles. "I’ll just have to explain.” The thief straightens, and his face sobers. It’s the most serious Charles has ever seen him. It would be scary if it wasn’t Henry.

Henry sighs, and his hands move “A good few years ago, I fucked up.”

And explain Henry does. 

It’s jumbled, and not very specific. Something about dying, but not really because obviously Henry is still breathing in front of them. As Henry speaks, he goes further off into a tangent that Charles has a hard time following. It’s obvious from Henry’s rushed words that he did not plan this speech over. But considering the circumstances, and what exactly Henry was _saying_ Charles will let it slide. Henry uses his hands when talking even when he wasn’t signing. Half-hearted gestures, frantic flailing of hands, and everything in between. Now, his hands constantly seem to be flicking up at the ceiling every other sentence. Henry hisses something about how he _knows Its listening and you know what, why was he the one forced to explain in the first place? Wouldn’t it be better if It dragged Its ass down here and just showed Itself?_

Henry seems to decide that’s enough cursing out what Charles thinks is an entity of some sort because suddenly he starts talking about death again. About _Henry_ dying when trying to get into that bank, and him deciding he didn’t want to die yet. Of him tugging at some kind of string and pissing of The Universe Itself. About how that was his first meeting with The Universe, and how because of it he accidentally got himself pulled into a cruel cycle.

A cycle of him being able to go back in time to correct mistakes, at the cost of sometimes getting hurt - or killed - a million times over.

By the time Henry’s finished speaking, his voice is hoarse. It’s the most Charles had ever heard the former thief talk, even more than the movie incident. Distantly, Charles hopes that Henry isn’t forcing himself to talk to explain all this.

The pilot’s head swims. What Henry’s going on about sounds rather fake, like something someone would see in a dream. But he says it like it’s a fact. Henry’s eyes are clear, not what you’d expect from someone rambling on and on about what they saw in a dream- or maybe even a nightmare. Plus, he _trusts_ Henry. He knows the former thief wouldn’t lie to him or Ellie.

It sounds unreal, but as soon as the pilot's mind tries to use some kind of reason to disprove it, his _brain_ twitches. It was a very strange feeling. It cooled him, and took into consideration all of the things that Charles would think to be fake. Like a gravity bubble, how in the world does that work? There's a lot that Charles doesn't understand, but also accepts as a fact. He can see that this topic is incredibly sensitive, and he needed to accept it. If not for himself, then for Henry's sake.

Thinking back on it, Charles had been surprised about how easily Henry had gotten into and out of the airship. At the time he had chalked it up to Henry just being extremely good at his craft. But if this whole thing Henry was saying was true…

Charles blinks and realizes there could have been a time that Henry could have died during that mission. Could have died even while Charles was there to help. He winces, there could have even been a time where he was there to witness Henry dying. A heavy feeling of horror settles in his stomach. He is suddenly very grateful that if Henry’s power(?) is the real deal, there’s probably plenty of things he has been spared from seeing.

Silence lays heavily for a moment, both sides not quite what to say next. Henry sits there on the side of the couch. He’s messing with the pile of lockpicks on the floor, trying to shove them back into the darkest depths of his hoodie. After getting about half of the items back into his pockets, Henry finally grits out, “I uh, know how that last bit sounds.”

Ellie, who had been quiet the entire speech, speaks up, “It explains a lot, actually.”

Henry pauses, crumpled up ball of paper in hand. He looks surprised, like he did not expect Ellie to understand. “It does?”

“Yeah,” Ellie leans back into the couch, rubbing at her temples. “I mean, it would explain how you got here despite all odds. Like, stealing a giant diamond? Taking out a giant criminal organization? Only someone who was extremely lucky, or in a higher power's favor - or whatever The Universe is - would be able to get this far.”

“I have noticed you doing some things like you’ve done them before,” Charles whispers, “but I thought it was just you having fast reflexes or something.”

Ellie snaps her fingers, "The Wall! When you made that face when I was captured! I thought that was weird, but that was you knowing any other decision would do something bad, right?"

A smile curls across Henry’s face, and Charles feels tension that he didn’t notice before melting away. “It was fun to make that face,” Henry huns, dropping the last handful of lockpicks into his hoodie. He doesn’t even bother trying to put them into pockets. Charles furrows his brows at this. He hopes the lockpicks won’t spill out at a bad time, like on a mission or something.

“But you guys are… taking this extremely well,” Henry signs slowly with his now freed hands.

“I mean,” Charles rubs at his face, “we do kinda have machines that can reverse gravity itself, so why not mess with time too?”

Ellie shrugs, “And it could always be shock or something. Maybe we don't quite get it since we aren't going through it. All I know is that the idea isn’t… too far fetched.”

"Except the whole The Universe is alive part, I'm still kind of confused on that." Charles rubs his hands together, a show of stress, "Does It like you? Does It hate you? Is It... intentionally killing you?"

Henry shrugs, "Sometimes Its nice, and other times I go tell it to fuck off. I usually have lots of bad luck afterwards. One time when I told it to buzz off, It actually listened without making me immediately trip. And the one time I made the mistake of yelling at It when It was pissed," Henry makes a sharp motion, "truck came out of nowhere."

Charles cringes, his blood turning to ice. "Okay," he says, strained, "I regret asking."

"I'm alright now," Henry offers.

"Still doesn't mean you didn't get hurt, Henry." The mere idea of how the whole thing would work made his skin itch. Charles has to stop rubbing at his face, or else his face is going to get all red from him irritating it.

"I guess that's true," Henry bumps his shoulder, trying to smile, "but you shouldn't worry, it doesn't really bother me anymore." That only makes Charles more upset, it should have never gotten to the point where Henry didn't get bothered by dying. He was dying, for god's sake!

Henry stretches, and Charles hears a popping noise. The former thief groans at this, rolling his shoulders around. “Anyway, as fun as me explaining how much life sucks was, I think we need to do something else. Like, go somewhere and eat or something.”

Charles stands then, giving Henry a concerned look “After that whole conversation?” He places a gentle hand on Henry’s shoulder, “Are you sure? I think it’d be better if we stayed here and chilled out.”

Henry shrugs, “Eh, I’ve been dealing with this shit for years. One little conversation about it isn’t gonna shake me up.”

“Years,” Charles echoes, and he’s hit with the realization that Henry has been dealing with his own deaths for _years._ To the point where he was no longer bothered by dying. Charles makes a little distressed noise at the back of his throat. “Okay, no,” As he says this, he opens his arms wide, “it’s hug time.”

It's an attempt to lighten the mood, and Charles can see that the others understand that. Henry narrows his eyes at the pilot, but Charles can see Henry’s lips twitch in amusement. Charles only smiles, keeping his arms spread. After a moment of staring at each other, Charles makes grabby hands. The former thief sighs, rolling his eyes, and slowly walks into the hug.

“Hug time!” Charles cheers, wasting no time wrapping his arms around the thief and squeezing. A happy flutter rises to his chest when he feels Henry hug back. 

They’re both bowled over by a new force joining the hug. Charles cackles, trying to not fall over and wipe out. Arms wrapped around the both of them, and Ellie’s voice chimed in cheerfully, “Hug time!”

“Hug time,” Henry whispered, a giant grin on his face.

* * *

Charles still doesn't really want Henry to be out and about after such a stressful conversation, but Henry wasn't having it. He could see it in the twitch of Henry's fingers; he needed something to _do._ So in the end, they decide to go back to the pilot’s favorite restaurant. Henry had wanted to go back there anyways, and Charles wanted to also show Ellie the joy that was his favorite place. It didn’t have those bright, piercing lights that made him feel like he was in a spotlight. There weren't that many people there either, so the noise level was just how he liked it. 

Veronica was there to seat them as always, giving Henry and Ellie a pleased look as they all sat down. 

The dinner passed in relative silence, excluding Ellie’s comments about how pretty the pond outside the window was. Honestly, Charles didn’t really notice the stars on the pond this time. His mind was in the clouds. Sometimes, he’d look over and all his thoughts would be filled by Henry. And then, the thoughts would trail off into Henry having to deal with dying or whatever else happened before the thief would go back in time.

He doesn’t realize he’s been uncharacteristically quiet the whole time until the end of the small dinner. He’s startled when an elbow bumps into his side, and he’s rather violently ripped from his own head. He fumbles for a moment, and turns to look at who exactly decided to elbow him.

Charles isn’t surprised to see it’s Henry. What he is surprised to see, though, is Henry’s pinched expression. He looks confused, maybe concerned. Charles stares as Henry signs a slow, “You alright? You’re quiet.”

“Oh,” Charles rubs at the soft material on his headphones absentmindedly, “Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking.”

Henry tilts his head, and he doesn’t even have to move his hands for Charles to get the message, “About what?”

“Well, uh,” Ellie’s looking at him now too, and Charles almost shrinks under the attention. He taps a rhythm on the table, trying to calm the sudden wrongness curling in his stomach. “You know… about a few months ago I thought you had started acting off, and I’m wondering if it’s about the whole...” Charles trails off, making a vague gesture towards Henry, “thing.”

Henry’s brows furrow, staring at Charles in confusion. “You said I was acting off?” Henry pauses for a moment, thinking hard by the look on his face, and seems to pick out his words carefully, “When exactly?”

When exactly had Henry started acting weird around him? It started around a few months ago, but what day? He makes sure to think over the answer carefully, he wouldn’t want to mix it up with something else after all. 

Ah, now he remembers.

Slowly, he says, “I believe it started… in the helicopter? When you fell over?” Charles snorts at the memory, a fond feeling rising to his chest, “Yeah, that’s it. You called me a transformer! Afterwards you got like, really touchy and kept on saying things like you had something in your throat.” Charles is putting the pieces together now, and he's happy that he finally has it figured out, "Or like how that one day you asked if I was from Tennessee even though you know I'm from Wyoming?"

Henry stares at him for a long time, eyes wide. For a beat, Charles wonders if he said something wrong, or overstepped an invisible boundary. Before he can ask, Henry’s voice comes out strangled, “Ah.” The former thief flounders for a moment before he manages to sign out a, “Yes, it was the whole... death thing.”

Charles manages to suppress a wince at the word “death”, instead focusing on a happier note. “Oh!” he beams, pleased, “well I guess I’m happy you were able to tell me about that stuff! I know it's kind of... private? If you need to talk or vent or whatever because you feel off, you know I'm here!” 

Charles can’t name the expression that passes over Henry’s face, but he feels a prick of surprise when the former thief stands up. Before the pilot can even react, the thief is signing a quick, “Get me a water to go, please,” and fleeing from the restaurant. 

“Oh,” Charles watches Henry go. The thief tries to act nonchalant, but he ends up breaking into a sprint halfway to the door. He hears the sharp ring of the bell on the door, and then Henry’s gone. 

Charles blinks, confused, “Huh, wonder what that was all about.”

* * *

You have got to be fucking kidding him. This day couldn't possibly get any worse. First, a nice day with having the two over at his house turned into him explained that _hey, he kind of goes through hell every so often, but no worries!_ Then he had to explain what the fuck The Universe was in the simplest terms possible because even Henry isn't completely sure what It is. And now, he knows that Charles didn’t even _know_ Henry was flirting, he just thought Henry was acting off! He’s never going to be able to show his face again. He is going to run away and hide in a hole to wait for The Universe to strike him down. It was the only option.

He- he went on a date with the pilot! Multiple dates at multiple times! Except Charles must have not seen them as dates, which stung. All of their hangouts, all of Henry’s little flirts and whatever- gone. Nothing! 

Carefully, making sure not to break anything, Henry picks the lock of the pilot’s helicopter. He had wondered if he would be able to pick the lock ever since Charles had locked it up on the first date. He’s pleased to announce that he very much can. He steps inside, closing the door behind him. After a few seconds of standing there, he takes a deep breath.

Throwing his head back, he screams in frustration. 

Of course he had to fall for the most oblivious pilot in the field! Of course he had to somehow land himself in a situation between dating-but-not-really all because Henry didn’t say anything proper. Because nooo, he was determined to nail down flirting! Well look where that flirting got him now! Taking a step forward only to be thrown about fifty steps back. Charles might not even like him!

That thought sobers him up real quick. He can complain about the situation all he wants, but in reality their whole entire relationship future might be in question. Charles didn’t know Henry was flirting, so Henry didn’t know if Charles would respond positively to a romantic relationship. Which meant that Henry had no idea what to do next. He could just flat out say it, but that might be too sudden. He didn’t want to suddenly dump a, “Hey, want to get together?” on Charles. That wouldn't be fair to the pilot.

“Son of a _bitch!_ ” He rubs at his eyes, snarling under his breath. He’s stuck in a horrible situation. He could do a risk move at the potential cost of wrecking their entire friendship. Or, he could just not say anything at all. He could shove these feelings back inside of his chest, and wait until The Universe actually let him die. Looking up at the ceiling, because he _knows that this decision will be a timeline split he can feel it,_ he hisses, “You’re the fucking worst.” 

A million amused eyes land on him, and Henry feels like breaking something.

* * *

“You have got to be kidding me, man,” Ellie says, voice somehow both disappointed and gleeful. Charles looks back at the redhead in bewilderment. This causes delight to dance in her eyes, “Oh my god, you’re serious.”

“Serious about what?”

Ellie laughs, and Charles feels like he’s being left out of a joke. “Did you do what I told you to do?” When Charles stays quiet, Ellie adds, “Think about your interactions with Henry at all? Did any digging.”

“Oh,” That’s what Ellie was hinting at, “Of course I did! I was able to tell Henry was off, and now we know why!” At least, Charles hopes that was it. The pilot wasn't always the best at understanding people's tone unless they very explicitly came forward and explained it. 

Ellie makes one of those sighs she always does when Henry and Charles seemed to be having a moment. A drawn out, tired sound, that made Charles twitch. She shakes her head, “You did, but you saw the wrong thing, Charles.”

The pilot squints, “The wrong…”

The waiter, who had been hovering nearby when Henry left, suddenly stepped forward. Charles cut himself off mid sentence, brain instead switching to a more important topic. Henry had asked for a water to go, right? Charles could get that for him! 

The waiter already had his book open, ready to write down another order. “Do you think you could get us a water to go, please?” Charles smiles, gesturing to where Henry had made his escape, “my partner asked for one before he left.”

The waiter stares for a long moment. The pencil had halted on where the man had been writing. Charles could feel Ellie’s piercing eyes on him too, and he wonders if he said something wrong. 

The waiter’s face quickly breaks out into a grin as he scribbles the order down. “Of course sir,” he chirps, oddly cheery, “be right with you!”

A beat of silence passes, and then he hears the clatter of dishes hitting the floor. Charles stands up, alarmed and worried that maybe someone had fallen over and dropped all their plates. He pauses when he hears hoots and hollers. He turns to give Ellie a helpless look, and only sees his same confusion mirrored in her eyes.

“Charles Calvin!” Comes the booming voice of none other than Veronica. He jumps, stumbling back into his seat. Veronica’s eyes latch onto him like a bloodhound, and she comes running forward. 

Charles barely even manages an “Uh-” before Veronica’s hands slapped down on the table. For a moment, Charles thinks he’s going to be attacked, but that melts away when a smile spreads across Veronica’s face.

“I knew it!” She cries, pointing a finger at him, “you sly dog, I knew you two were dating!”

The pilot is absolutely, one hundred percent dumbfounded.

Ellie squints, “Uh no, we aren’t-”

“No, no! Not you!” Veronica waves a frantic hand at the redhead, who quiets back down, “You!” She points at Charles again, “You and Henry!”

Charles blinks once, and then twice. Ellie glances over at him, and he can tell she’s amused. He sits there for a moment, taking in the information slowly until-

It comes to him in a flash, and he feels his face explode in a blush.

Veronica cackles in victory, shaking her fists at the sky, “I told them- _I told them!_ Man, they owe me so much money now!”

“Wait-” he squeaks out, scrambling for purchase because _oh god why did Veronica think they were dating?!_ “We aren’t- we aren’t dating!’

“No way!” Veronica shakes the table, “the first time you guys came here, it was just you and him! You guys sat here and ate at _sunset!_ It was so romantic, there was now way it wasn’t a date!”

“We aren’t dating!” Charles repeats again, voice shrill, “Why would you even-”

“Chris said you called him your partner!”

“I meant _job partners!_ ”

“That’s a load of bullshit, and you know it! I've seen you two stumble in, looking like you just made out or whatever-"

Ellie's eyebrows shoot up, "You've what."

Charles chokes on his tongue, "What? When?!"

Veronica points at him, "When you guys first came here! You guys were out of breath and all flushed and whatever. You two were literally clinging to each other-"

"We did _not-_ "

"Than why exactly did you guys come in like that-"

"We were wrestling-"

" _In the parking lot?_ "

Ellie suddenly intervenes, giving Charles a pat on the shoulder, “Alright, alright, give the poor man some space.” 

Charles breathes, running a shaky hand down his tomato red face. He had- had he called Henry his partner? He had, but he had meant it in a job way! They were partners on the field after all! He didn’t mean it in the dating way- he couldn’t-

He groans, hiding his face. Charles will _never_ be able to take Henry here again. 

“So, are they not dating?” Veronica murmurs. Charles peeks out between his fingers to see Veronica and Ellie whispering to each other.

He’s able to make out Ellie’s, “No,” and something about “pining,”

“Ah,” Veronica straightens, “you poor fool. Just ask him out already so you can be dating!”

Still embarrassed, he mumbles from behind his hands, “That’s not how this works, Veronica.”

“Why not?”

Charles throws his hands up in frustration. Not quite all the red in his face is from embarrassment now. Frustration mixed in, causing a very strange - very unstable - combination. “Because!” he shouts, and part of him feels bad about raising his voice, “Because it just doesn’t!”

They don’t understand, they don’t get it! Everyone’s just telling him to go for it, but he just can’t! How is he supposed to face Henry and tell him that he has a massive crush on him that Charles isn’t sure is _just_ a crush anymore and get out on the other side? He’s never seen Henry have interest in dating, and his only knowledge of it comes from Ellie. Who said he was flirting with _someone else._ How was he just supposed to bring up the courage when his greatest fear was making Henry uncomfortable with him? There’d be no fixing that, even if Henry went back and used his weird time thing to get Charles to never confess. Henry would always know, and he’d always be discomforted and then they’d always never be friends again-

“Charles.” Veronica’s voice is eerily calm, but he doesn’t look at her face, “you’re a government agent right?”

What was that supposed to do with anything? “Yes,”

“You and Henry go out on the field all the time, right?”

“Yes.”

“So, you’re always in constant danger?”

Something twists in the pilot’s chest. “That’s an odd way of putting it.”

Veronica leans further onto the table, “Either of you could die, at any time, anywhere.”

His head snaps up, and Veronica is staring at him now. Something cold and sharp and afraid stabs him then, and his blood turns to ice. But… “Henry won’t die,” he says firmly.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that, he won’t die.”

Veronica’s eyes show her frustration. “Alright, fine, then what if _you_ die?”

And he… doesn’t know what to say to that. Realistically, he always had to be okay with dying if he went on a mission. It happened to the best of them, nobody was safe from death, ever. But thinking about it in a way that might cut him short- might stop him before he even has a chance to say what he needed to-

Charles looks away and mumbles a weak, “I don’t know.”

Ellie hums, and it’s a sympathetic sound. “That would be a lot of regret left behind.”

Charles winces, messing with his headphones, “I know.”

“So? You see why you have to say something?” And he doesn’t know if it’s Veronica or Ellie saying this because honestly his head is going off into a spiral. He _could_ die. Henry’s life saving powers don’t work on him. Charles could die at any moment, and that’s terrifying. He rubs at his temples, letting out a little whine. Would being quiet be worth it? He guesses that it would be the safe thing to do…

But when did Charles ever go with the safe option?

Suddenly, Veronica steps away and a cup is placed on the table with a dull thunk. He stares at it for a long time, thinking. 

“Maybe,” he says, taking the cup of water in hand. “Maybe I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i started writing it, had a breakdown, bon appetit 
> 
> OKAY ALSO, I JUST GOT HIT WITH A BUNCH OF BURNOUT SO.... THIS IS PROBABLY GOING TO TAKE A LITTLE BREAK? I'M NOT GIVING UP ON THIS!! I'M JUST TRYING TO GET MY WRITING JAM BACK!
> 
> Chapter started September 8th and finished September 18th.


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